


Don't Say A Word

by Hawkens



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bull Feels, Cole Talks too much, Dorian has a drinking problem, Dream Sex, Drinking, F/F, F/M, Love Triangles, M/M, Male Trevelyan is kind of a jerk, Protective Iron Bull, Reference to Blood Play, Reference to Sexual Choking, The Chargers - Freeform, Trevelyan Backstory, Unrequited Love, nosy friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-07 10:03:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3170774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkens/pseuds/Hawkens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rogue male Inquisitor Trevelyan and Dorian enjoy having sex together. It means more to Dorian, something they are both aware of but avoiding. Trevelyan likes sex and would like to have sex with Iron Bull too. Iron Bull meanwhile is more interested in Dorian and feeling particularly protective.</p><p>This can only end well, right?</p><p>(aka: A Dorian/Iron Bull story with added asshole!Trevelyan)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No I In Three

**Author's Note:**

> I actually requested a similar prompt to this on the kink meme but it did not show up even though I posted it twice. Clearly I'm fated to write this myself then. Either that or my fingers spasmed on the keyboard and this is what came out. Sorry about that!
> 
> Credit to David Cook and his song "Don't Say a Word" for inspiring me. Or blame him. Depends on your point of view.

"You really should do something about the curtains in here," Dorian comments sleepily to Inquisitor Trevelyan, groaning as the sunlight starts to creep further and further into the room.

Snorting, Trevelyan runs a hand through his dark brown, sex tousled hair and gives Dorian the kind of smile that, even in the midst of a post orgasm haze, causes his pulse to speed up a tick. "Yes, well, forgive me, but normally I'm so deeply asleep at this hour that it doesn't bother me."

Letting out a low laugh of his own, Dorian wraps an arm around him and pulls closer to his side, shivering in the cold morning air. "Is that a complaint I detect dear Inquisitor? Would you prefer I not have disturbed you?"

The tone is light and teasing but, even still, Dorian can't help but feel him tensing. This, in turn, causes him to suck in a slow breath. He's treading on dangerous territory and he knows it. The sudden tension in the air is almost palpable.

"No, of course not," Trevelyan replies with a roll of his eyes, but Dorian can't help but notice the way he pulls away. Getting to his feet he wordlessly makes in the direction of the bathroom. Watching him go, Dorian's eyes trail over his well defined muscled back and linger on his ass, but the haze clouding his mind is rapidly clearing.

This isn't the first time he's felt the gorgeous body beneath him tense immediately after sex. But each time Trevelyan throws him that smile and escapes in some way. Always with a reasonable excuse, but Dorian is no fool, he can  _feel_ the...something, unresolved.

Laying back onto the bed, Dorian catches his own reflection in the mirror the kinky bastard has affixed above his bed. Normally he enjoys the chance to appreciate its' reflection but now all there is to show is his own form. Studying himself critically, Dorian is aware that he still looks and, quite frankly, smells of the hours of sex he and the inquisitor have just shared.

So why is it the face that looks back at him is so incredibly...disappointed.

 _You know exactly why..._  a small voice whispers nastily to him,  _look around you, Dorian, it's not like you haven't been in this position before. You recognize the signs. You know what to do now._

Glaring at himself, Dorian felt his chest well with emotion he was unwilling to name. It was just all...it was so...

 _So what? Unfair?_  His mind supplied helpfully. _If that is really it then just end it. It would be easy, in fact, he might thank you if you did. Just leave it all behind, never speak of it again..._

And that...that was true. And most of the problem. Dorian knew that the moment Trevelyan came back he could confront him about the awkward tension. They could have a nice heart to heart about it and, in the end, he could leave. Get up and walk away.

They could carry on as though nothing had happened, the rogue could still certainly count on him for any missions required and they could laugh and joke as the world around them fell apart. But there they would be; the best of friends. There was no need to hold onto this...to someone who would never...

_Never show you the same._

\-----

It wasn't surprising in the least to Trevelyan that, when he returned from his trip to the bathroom, Dorian was already gone. In fact, it was exactly the outcome he had been hoping for.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, Trevelyan climbed back into bed with a sigh of relief. It was starting to get dangerous with Dorian and he knew it. For all the mage's bluster about being used to having to hide his dalliances, for how much everything he had ever done hadn't meant a thing beyond the carnal pleasure...he was terrible at it.

Really, Trevelyan should have known better. It was always the ones who proclaimed they were the best at it that couldn't handle it. True, he could have done his part and made it easier - for example he should really not have agreed to fuck the mage so late at night where it would be so easy for him to want to hang around longer.

It was difficult to be delicate about it...diplomacy wasn't the Inquisitors best trait. Sometimes he had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping at Dorian the words that he longed to say. That they were just fooling around, wasting time, taking up space until they reached the next stage of their lives.

So far he had managed to hold off because he honestly  _liked_ Dorian and certainly didn't want to hurt him. Sure it helped that the sex was really fucking amazing, but really when it came down to it...he knew it was nearing the end. Which was a shame, but he could only cut Dorian's words off so many times before the mage would say something to irreversibly change their relationship.

But perhaps that would be for the best in the end. As Inquisitor, Trevelyan had a wide range of men and women of many different species vying for his attention now. Perhaps it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to cut free of Dorian - no matter how good the sex was. Besides, he had to believe that sex with someone like Bull had to be just as good, if not better.

 _Imagine taming that beast, now that is real power..._ he thought to himself with a low sigh,  _That would be some kind of high, getting the best of Bull, getting him to take my dick and beg for it...that might actually be worth giving up the mage, despite how good his mouth is...how perfect it feels wrapped around my dick. If only I could have both..._

Pulling the covers up over his face, Trevelyan decided that it, whatever the situation was or could become, could certainly wait another few hours. Whatever (or whoever) he was going to do could wait until after he'd gotten more sleep

\-----

The Iron Bull had never needed his Ben Hassrath training in order to read humans. They, as a species, were so incredibly expressive. Even the best of spies, even the best players of The Game, Leliana and Josephine, were an open book to him. You could tell after being in a room with them for five seconds that they were having passionate sex right on prim and proper Josephine's desk.

 _Probably don't even bother to clear it first..._ Bull thought with amusement as he grinned at the diplomat in question.

Most of the crew were currently gathered in the War Room, discussing which way was the best to go about approaching the situation with the property in the Emerald Graves. It had little enough to do with him at the moment, so Bull was allowing his mind to wander.

Inevitably, it seemed, his eye landed on Dorian.

The usually haughty mage hadn't been himself lately and the reason why was showing all over his face. Perhaps not to others, but it was to Bull. As easy as it was for him to read every human it seemed especially easy for him to read Dorian.

Perhaps that was due to the sheer amount of time he spent looking at the particularly pretty human, but Bull didn't think so. The occasional questioning looks Varric threw him along with the tick in the normally cool and collected Inquisitors jaw were proof enough to him.

Even he could see to a degree  _haha yes, one eye joke_  that there was trouble in paradise.

"I see, well, that should be well enough to go on for the moment at least."

Iron Bull glanced at the Inquisitor as he spoke again, pulling out one of his daggers and flitting his thumb over it before pointing at the map with the tip. "I'm going to hit this red templar leader here where it hurts the most. I've always said when you need to take action, cut off the head; well this is the closest thing to a head we have."

Bull couldn't help but smirk at the bloodthirsty nature of his words, plus he had a good point. But it was Dorian who spoke first, his tone so forcefully light that Bull almost winced in sympathy. "Excellent. I take it you will be taking the A-Team then, hitting at the head? Pity we've only just returned to Skyhold, but when duty calls-"

"That's right," the Inquisitor interrupted unapologetically, not looking at Dorian. "I am taking them..." he spoke pointedly, nodding before turning to look at Bull, "Cass, Bull, are you guys ready to give Cole and I a run for our money?" Almost as an afterthought he added, "Don't need the mage trio for this one, you guys sideline it, don't need the templars weakening us now."

To his credit Dorian reacted less than Bull thought he would, waving his hand with a muttered answer with how that worked for him anyway. Bull, meanwhile, was trying to stop himself from shoving the hopeful and smiling face of the Inquisitor hard right into his stupid map table. "Sorry Chief, can't do this one, Chargers're hitting the 'shores, gonna be there for my men." Bull lied easily with a toothy grin, "Sure Blackwall's ready for a fight though."

Noting, with no small measure of satisfaction, the brief look of disappointment and annoyance on the Inquisitors face, Bull hummed to himself as the man replied snappily, "I'm sure they could survive one night without you, Bull, need I remind you were you loyalty lies?" That drew a gasp from Josephine which caused Trevelyan to color a light shade of pink in his ears and to wave his hand dismissively before Bull could even reply. "Oh fine, fine, forget I said anything. Blackwall, you're in. We leave at once."

With that he hastily sheathed his dagger and stormed out of the room. Blackwall and Cass followed quickly behind him but Cole was looking so torn that Bull couldn't help but take pity on the boy...er...spirit...thing.

"They burn hotly, the words do. To so many, they twist deeper than a knife to the core of his being. Importance, self confidence, need, desire, they're such a tangle, for all, and I don't...they snag and tear if pulled, how can I-"

"Easy guy, easy," Bull calms him, noting how Dorian also beats a quick exit, sighing lowly to himself but patting a hand on Cole's back. "You don't have to help everyone with everything, you know? You're just one, er, person. Relax and go on the mission, kill some templars for me." Giving Cole a carefree smile, Bull can tell the spirit doesn't believe him but does seem a bit calmed in spite of it, as he nods and follows after the others.

Before Bull can turn to see which direction Dorian ran of to - though he assumes the library - he feels a hand on his lower hip stop him. Turning he puts that carefree smile back on for Varric but the dwarf is far more observant than he seems and dismisses it. "Bull? You going to check on Sparkler?"

"Wasn't planning to. Why, do you think I should?" Bull asked lightly and to his surprise the dwarf gave him a slight shake of his head.

"Honestly, if you really want to know what I think, Tiny, I think that right now that might be playing with fire. Moreso, even, than usual."

With those profound words Varric slipped out, followed after by Cullen, Leliana and Josephine who were discussing the Inquisitor’s rudeness and how mistakes like that can simply not be made in front of the empress and all of Orlais. Which was apparently where their next mission was planning on leading them. Or not, if the Inquisitor couldn't get his act together.

Now alone, Bull leaned heavily against the wall and closed his eye. Sometimes he wished he did not see as much as he did. And even more...he wished that he had enough wisdom to mind his own business.

Unbidden, a flash of Dorian's hurt expression flashed through his mind and he sighed heavily.

Oh what the hell, he had never been good at doing what was best for him anyway.


	2. One Is The Loneliest Number

"Do you...really think that is the best way to go about doing that?"

Blackwall's question came from several feet below him, where the warrior was pacing back and forth looking up at him. Gripping into the stone and dirt of the mini mountain he was attempting to scale, he turned just enough to shoot the aforementioned Grey Warden a glare.

"I _need_ to get up there, I know there is loot up there and, after that comment, see if you're going to be getting any of it."

Really he didn't mean to be snappy, he was just sick of people second guessing him. He was in command for a reason and they really needed to remember that before-

"Let me help you, Inquisitor." Cassandra's rough voice broke his concentration as she grabbed for his arm. Completely taken aback he allowed her to help him up, holding onto her as he worked his legs to finally kick up the side of the mountain.

Immediately he let go as though burned. "How did you get up here so quickly?" he demanded, realizing with surprise that Cole was standing just to her left.

"While you were attempting to jump up the mountain, we went around..." she replied, gesturing to her right. If he didn't know her better, he would swear there was a hint of a smirk on her lips. But...that was so unlike her, he decided to pretend he didn't notice as he pushed past her without reply.

 _I do have some self control..._ he thought to himself as he set to work picking the lock of said hut. And really he should've realized that and gone around as well - something had him off his game lately and it was difficult to not blame the one fairly obvious distraction he had.

Later that night when they had set up camp, it became clear that it was obvious even to Blackwall, as the warrior sat down heavily next to him. He had been staring into the fire the past hour or so, picking apart pieces of a disgusting bread he had unwisely bought from the people in the Graves and tossing it into the fire.

Empty beer bottles surrounded him and he really wished he had brought more - the mission was almost over and what a way to celebrate the saving of another village. Even if the only tangible reward was some shitty bread and a few trinkets. It could've been more if he'd just made the leader's noble birth known but Cassandra had insisted and he hadn't been in the mood to deal with her bitching on the trip back to Skyhold.

"Can...Can I ask you something?" the words from Blackwall were uncharacteristically timid, but then the last time he had tried to speak to the Inquisitor he had nearly had his head bitten off so Trevelyan supposed he could hardly blame him for it.

Not in the mood for long conversations he gave Blackwell a sideways look, "Must you?"

Surprisingly that earned him a laugh in reply. "Well no, I suppose not, but I'd like to all the same."

"Very well." Trevelyan sighed with a wave of his arm.

Might as well get this over with, though he wasn't keen on discussing personal matters. He had a hunch that Blackwall, not being fond of Dorian, was going to ask him something along the lines of why he was with him. After that lovely display of Dorian's in the map room - practically begging him to come along on the trip - Trevelyan wasn't surprised that people were talking. Plus, being who he was, the Inquisitor, it was natural that people would want to gossip about who he was fucking.

That didn't mean he was looking forward to being scolded about his choice of sex partners by a man who only seemed to think it was necessary to shower once a week. Maker only knows the last time he had sex, smelling like that. That wasn't something that any human could pull off, some other species - dwarfs, qunari - maybe, but not humans.

"Well, I was just wondering..." Blackwall hesitated and Trevelyan was about to lose his patience when he finally blurted it out, "I was wondering if you knew if Scout Harding was _seeing_ anyone, or not."

It took several long seconds for the question to sink in but, when it did, Trevelyan did the only thing he could do. He threw his head back and laughed and laughed and _laughed,_ longer and harder than he had in the long time.

"What is this racket?" It was evidentially enough to draw Cassandra from her tent with her usual scowl upon her face.

Still unable to stop laughing, Trevelyan doubled over with a hand on his stomach, leaving Blackwell to answer the question. "Nothing," he muttered with a look to Cassandra, "Just take my advice, never ask our fearless leader anything. Especially when it comes to love."

With that he stalked off to his own tent, leaving Cassandra looking questioningly after him. She seemed to hesitate, torn between following him or not, before she apparently decided to scold Trevelyan instead.

"I do not think it is so funny." She crossed her arms and stared down at him even as his laughter subsided. He rather thought she looked like one of his personal tutors he had growing up when she did that. "Matters of the heart never are."

"You say that now..." Trevelyan replied with a smirk, "try imaging that..." he pointed in the direction Blackwell had departed, "fucking our dwarf scout! Seriously! I bet they could only have sex standing up; he'd have to hold her to his height! Though I guess if anyone could stomach that smell it'd be a dwarf."

That disapproving sound Cassandra made in the back of her throat really DOES sound so familiar. "Sometimes sex isn't the only thing that's important. Sometimes two people will make it work, no matter what they have to do. And, despite the vulgar mockery, they may have to endure."

Lifting his brows, Trevelyan is still smiling, "Vulgar? This from the lady who actually reads Swords and Shields?"

Cassandra's face doesn't flush with embarrassment like he wanted, or well, if she does, he can't tell with only the light from the dimming fire. "Sometimes you are as an immature child, Inquisitor. You enjoy toying with others but some day it will end badly for you." She sighs with a shake of her head, moving to help him to his feet.

Grabbing a hold of her hand he instead uses the momentum to tug her bodily down on top of him, sending his body crashing into the soft grass. Keeping her close he slides a hand through her short hair and, before she can stop him, he crashes their mouths together messily.

For just an instant it seems he has surprised her and he takes the opportunity of her open mouth gasp to give her a little tongue, yes, she would like that. She tastes spicy, her lips have a tang to them and Trevelyan finds himself enjoying the kiss far more than he thought he would. Just when he feels her arms raise and start to push him he breaks the kiss roughly, breathing hard.

"Wha-what are you _doing_?!" And now she is flushed, hair askew and she scrambles away from him.

"Ahhh, see, I knew you wanted some! Everyone dooes!" Trevelyan sing songs triumphantly and enjoys the moment for another second before everything goes black.

\-----

For as much as Dorian complained about the Inquisitor's curtains, even he had to admit that he'd much rather those than the god awful drapes that adorn the library windows. _It wouldn't even take much effort, just a slight wave of my fingers and poof, they could be ashes on the floor..._ Dorian thought to himself as he lounged in his favorite chair overlooking the battlements.

But it wasn't really fair to take his feelings out on poor defenceless curtains and he is more than aware of that. It had only been three days since the Inquisitor had taken his A Team and moved out to the Emerald Graves, and things around Skyhold were just so very  _boring_ with him gone.

Even as much as he had always enjoyed a good book, the tomes around Skyhold could hardly be considered great works of literature whether they were fiction or not. The theories on magic were so dated that Dorian had found one which had mentioned how it would be neat if _someday_ mages were able to cast wards to keep rampaging enemies at bay. That particular book was later found sailing majestically across the battlements to land in quite a large nasty puddle. Which served it right.

Rising to his feet, Dorian moved his arms over his head stretching the muscles which ached from disuse. "About midday, surely that's late enough..." he muttered to himself. Late enough to move to his _third_ favorite place in Skyhold - the tavern.

Of course said tavern had been considerably less lively lately since Iron Bull and his Chargers left for the Coast just before the Inquisitor had. With their rowdy noise removed, Dorian could actually hear himself think in the tavern.

Which was decidedly not a good thing.

Frowning into his fourth mug of Fereldan beer, Dorian groaned to himself and shook his head. _And you really have to wonder why he is pulling away, you lush? Just look at you, you've already spilled beer on your front, your hair is a mess, you haven't bathed since this morning...Just consider yourself lucky he's not here or you wouldn't even be worth the sex._

"Well he's not here, shut up!" Dorian snarled out loud as he downed the mug, almost choking on it as a massive hand clapped him on the back. Spilling even more of it down his front, _luckily they aren't your best robes..._ Dorian turned with wide eyes to see Iron Bull.

"I'm pretty sure talking to yourself is one of those signs of insanity, isn't it? Then that wouldn't exactly surprise me, pretty sure all mages have to be at least partway crazy to shoot fireballs from their fingers." Iron Bull's tone was light, gentle, as he waved over to the bartender to refill two mugs.

Coughing a little, Dorian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What...what are you doing here? When did you get back?" Glancing around, Dorian didn't see the other familiar faces, "Hey - where are the others?"

"Nothing gets past you does it?" Iron Bull asked and Dorian was fairly sure he was mocking him before he went on, "I didn't actually leave, wanted to give the boys a chance to do it on their own. You know, gotta let them do some stuff alone or they'll start to think I don't believe in 'em."

"You didn't go...you mean, at _all_?" Dorian asked stupidly before shaking his head to try and clear it, "I mean...where have you been? Not exactly easy to hide someone as, well, huge as you, is it?"

That description drew a lopsided smile from Bull, "Maybe if you're new to it, but...spy, remember? It's kind of what we do. Don't tell anyone or anything...you're the only one that knows...well...just the two of you." Bull threw him what Dorian supposed must be some kind of one-eyed wink before nodding to the bartender and accepting their drinks.

With a start Dorian looked around again and realized they were, in fact, the only customers left in the tavern. Not only are the Chargers missing but everyone else he could've sworn had been there recently. He had some vague memories of Sera poking fun with him until she...well, he doesn't quite remember, actually. Was this really only his fifth beer? At least it made up for the lack of taste with strength.

It took him a long moment to realize that Bull was staring at him and he felt his face flush a little. "What?" he demanded of the Qunari, pushing off the barstool to stand - albeit somewhat wobbly, clutching onto the counter with one bejeweled hand.

It really looked like Bull was about to say something, to ask him something, and all at once Dorian decided he really didn't want to hear it after all.

"Nevermind, look, I don't know why you're here, why you decide to show yourself to me of all people but I _don't_ need your help." Pointedly Dorian lifted a finger and pointed it at the Qunari's chest, dropping his eyes to it before rapidly raising them, feeling himself flush as he realized he was staring at his nipples. Stupid shirtless qunari.

Lifting his hands, Bull shook his head, "Hey hey, I didn't say you did, calm down. Maybe I'm not doing this for you, huh? Maybe I came here for me? Maybe..." here Bull's smile becomes decidedly less innocent, "Maybe I came here to take advantage of the pretty Tevinter mage in his weakened state. You know, I could help you _polish your staff_..."

The way Iron Bull waggled his brows after that almost made Dorian laugh. The worst part was...well, the worst part was that that sounded fantastic and he has no doubt Bull would be really amazing in bed. But the _other_ worst part was...Dorian doubted Trevelyan would even care if he did. So really, he should, but...that would even assume that Bull was being serious and wasn't just making fun of him.

"Ugh..." he groans out loud instead, shaking his head, "you really _must_ stop, Bull, I-"

Whatever it was that he was, however, Dorian would never get to say as, at that moment, a loud slam interrupted their conversation. Dorian himself jumped but Iron Bull, seemingly knowing it was coming, was suddenly and abruptly nowhere in sight, leaving Dorian pointing at nothing. Lowering his arm and wondering exactly how long he had been like that, he gasped as he turns to look at Trevelyan.

"What...what in the Void happened to you?" he asked with shock, taking in the deep purpling bruise of a black eye that marred his otherwise gorgeous face.

"You don't. Want. To. Know." Trevelyan snapped in reply and without preamble Dorian found himself pulled to his side, hard. "Hope you don't mind getting a room here tonight, Dorian, I'm not in the mood to wait for your drunken ass to stumble to my quarters."

Instead of asking Trevelyan exactly how he knew he was drunk, Dorian just clutched his fingers into the man's arms, inhaling his intoxicating scent. "No problems here, honestly..." he mutters, unable to stop himself from smiling, "need to take out some extra energy?"

"Let's just say...I could use the ego boost."

While Dorian would very much like to know what he meant by that, it was difficult to think of anything other than trying to put one foot in front of the other as they scrambled up the stairs to one of the more private rooms. Only a lingering thought of Iron Bull remained and before long even that was driven away.

\-----

Although Dorian is not his most observant when he is drunk, Iron Bull knew the Inquisitor was returning soon. If only he could have timed it a bit better...he knew he should've gone to Dorian on the second night but it was difficult to approach him even at the best of times.

He had only just gotten his nerve up and done so when he heard the tell tale signs of Cassandra stomping around angrily swinging her sword at practice dummies. Something had certainly pissed her off enough to practice even at night. Which meant the Inquisitor was bound to be either really happy or equally pissed. Which meant he had only moments until Trevelyan realized Dorian wasn't in the library and would come next to the tavern.

So it was that Bull retreated to the far corner of the bar and made it up the stairs just in time. Moving quickly and quietly he retreated near Sera's room, hiding in the shadows as Trevelyan pulled Dorian away.

 _Good for him..._ Iron Bull thinks to himself as he slipped from the tavern shortly after. Now if only he meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope other people enjoy Angst/Humor as much as I do!


	3. Love Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mentions of sexual choking and cutting in this chapter.

Iron Bull is not the lightest sleeper. Mostly due to the fact that if you slept more than 10 minutes consecutively in Seheron you are unlikely to ever wake up. Even still he is surprised that he is apparently the only one who hears the racket that is Dorian making on his walk of shame back to his quarters.

 _Attempting to walk, more like..._ Bull thinks to himself as he watches the mage stumble. The drinks he had hours ago must still be affecting him and Bull has to wince in sympathy as he stumbles on his own robes and smacks hard into the side of the stairs.

"And you think my clothes are impractical..." Bulls addresses him, stepping forward and helping Dorian to right himself.

The act is evidentially not appreciated as the mage rips his arm back, almost over balancing, and saying what Bull is sure is something very nasty in Tevene. "My _clothes_ are fine, it's the person wearing them..." and that raises Bull's brow before he hastily adds, "or more like the swill you pretend is alcohol, wine certainly doesn't do this to me..."

Upon closer inspection though, it doesn't seem to Bull that Dorian is nearly as drunk as he first seemed. Certainly less well put together than before; his robe, which _already_ showed off most of his shoulder, is dropping down even lower causing the build up of robes at his feet which likely was the reason for his stumble. Gem encrusted buckles are haphazardly and loosely thrown together making the normally snug fitting outfit seem a few sizes too large for him. And Bull is extremely aware of just how well the outfit normally fits to his body, particularly accentuating the curve of his ass.

Coughing to distract himself from his own thoughts, Bull is surprised to see Dorian staring back at him. "If you are _quite_ finished enjoy the view, Bull, kindly unhand me and I'll be on my way..."

"I thought you liked the attention." Bull replied even as he let Dorian go, keeping his eye trained on him. He watched Dorian stumble slightly into the lamplight in the early morning dark and skit back away immediately. Interesting, that.

"Perhaps normally..." Dorian trails off with a sigh. Seemingly that is all the reply he plans to give as he turned to go - and that is when Bull sees it clearly.

Lightly darkening bruises were already starting to show through around the sides and front of Dorian's neck, marring the caramel-smooth skin. Alarm rising, Bull instinctively grabs for Dorian's arm, tugging him back. Apparently the mage wasn't expecting it and he lets out a sharp pained gasp as he trips into Bull's wide chest.

Before he can speak, can ask him about it, Dorian cuts him off, a hand flying to protectively rub against the skin of his throat. "It's no big deal..." he insists even as he flushes a little - Bull can't tell if it's in embarrassment or shame, "And before you can ask, I'm fine, it's not the first time and we both enjoy it."

Unsure if he entirely believes him or not, Bull can do nothing but nod. After all it wasn't really his business what they got up to in the bedroom and it certainly wasn't even close to the strangest thing he himself has ever done. Even still, "I doubt you want to go around looking like that...in your current state, though, Dorian..." Bull tells him, unable to stop his concern from coloring his voice. "Look, at least let me help you out, yeah? I got some stuff in my room that I know can help and at least it'll stop you from running into anyone else, you're not exactly being quiet."

Bull watches Dorian weigh the pros and cons before the weight against his chest sags further against him and the words come shortly after. "Fine. Have it your way then, but only because this castle has too many void cursed stairs."

Smiling, Bull is pleased with that answer as he moves his arm lightly around Dorian's side, so that it's there to help the many times in the short trip the mage stumbles. "It might help if you didn't sleep at the very top, kind of a long way to go when it's not even morning yet."

Bull doesn't ask as he already knows, in spite of Dorian not being forthcoming with why he was so insistent to return to his room at this hour. Instead he continues on, filling the silence to calm the extremely tense man at his side. "Then again, I kind of did steal the best place on the premises. It has everything you could want in location - right near the front in case of a surprise attack plus it's the closest to the bar..." Bull waves his hand as they approach his place, tugging the door open and moving them both inside.

"Yes, so very charming and I love what you've done with the place..." Dorian replies with his nose in the air, glancing around his humble abode. Even though he knows Dorian is judging him he has to smile at the tone as the mage pulls a little away to smirk at him, "I mean how much time you must save never having to wash your sheets, just let it rain right on them through the _giant hole_ in your ceiling."

"I know right?" Bull plays along with a laugh. "It's great! Also works because I'm always hot - can always build a fire for warmth but it's harder to cool down."

"I'm jealous..." Dorian states with a shake of his head. Turning away he tugs up his robes, holding them so he can walk more stably, and sits carefully on the very edge of Bull's bed. "If I had to live here, I'd freeze every night. It's so cold here I never need to cool down...Even right now, it's so cold..." he complains before he waves his fingers at Bull, "Interested in a fire now?"

"Uh, no offense but...I'm not sure that drinking and doing magic is the best idea..." Bull can't help the alarm he feels at the very idea.

That gets a full laugh out of Dorian though, the first genuine one Bull has heard from him in a while. "Oh please, I am far too good a mage and far too good at drinking to allow anything to go wrong. See, I can just-"

"No, wait, don't!" Bull stammers out taking a step to him but it's too late. With such little effort a large ball of fire shoots out from Dorian's hand. Freezing in his spot, Bull frowns as the ball of flame seems to dance around him teasingly before floating harmlessly into his fire pit. There it dulls down considerably, only giving the occasional crackle as it burns the remaining dried leaves and ashes left in the pit.

"See!" Dorian exclaims triumphantly and now he is laughing, if only at Bull's discomfort.

Still it is a good sound to hear and Bull has to force himself to sound cross. "Yes yes well done, you're adept at burning things, but we already knew that." He rolls his eye as he moved across to a chest of herbs and potions that he keeps at the foot of his bed, rummaging through it for the aloe and elfroot he kept to help with burns.

"I have always had a way with fire..." Dorian agrees with him, seemingly more at ease. "It is one of my many, many talents."

Humming softly in the back of his throat as he finds the mixture and pulls the salve out of his chest, Bull turns to give Dorian a slightly more serious look. "If only one of your talents involved you taking a bit better care of yourself, and knowing your limits."

Immediately the mood shifts and Dorian crosses his arms over his chest - a protective and defiant gesture. "I didn't ask for your help, Bull," Dorian snaps, "and I am more than capable of taking care of myself and knowing my limits. It may be beyond your understanding but I didn't come here to have my sexual preferences judged by you."

Bull blinks dumbly at him for a moment before he shakes his head and moves closer, "No, Dorian, that...that isn't what I meant at all. I'm not referring to your neck." As a peace offering he hands the salve out to him as he goes on, "I more just meant how often you like to get so drunk you can't even walk home properly. I'm all in favor of getting smashed but when you do it every day...well, it seems like there is a bit more involved than just having fun."

Watching the mage weigh his words, Bull lets out a breath of relief as he begrudgingly takes the salve from him. Still, even as he smears the mixture onto his fingers and runs it over the rapidly deepening bruises, he doesn't seem fully convinced. "I'd ask how exactly it is you know about my drinking habits, Bull, but I honestly don't care. I'm far more interested in why exactly you care either way? Why you are going out of your way to help me?"

And that...is honestly a good question. One that even Bull isn't entirely sure he has an answer to. Bull knew at first sight that he'd love to have a good roll in the hay with Dorian. But the mage was more than just pretty - he was intelligent, funny and fun to be around. Beyond enjoying getting to look at him, Bull found he was appreciating him more as a person. Even though they were barely friends, Bull found himself caring very much about his well being.

Still those things aren't quite as easy to say when they are demanded of you rather aggressively by the man himself. So instead Bull gives him a light shrug and half truthful answer. "You are one of the crew, Dorian, and I protect my crew. Whether you like it or not that's going to include you now..." Sighing he gives him a small smile, "But I get some people don't like it, and if you don't, I can back off. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, but it's easier to fight side by side when there is at least some level of trust."

Bull isn't sure if he imagines it but Dorian's shoulders seem to drop at his words. Of course that could just be in reaction to the mage running more salve around his neck. "I...I understand that, Bull, and I respect it. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you." Dorian replies softly, "I'm just..." Trailing off Dorian sighs deeply before trying again. "Caring...it usually has some sort of price to it. You must expect something in return?"

It is said so earnestly that Bull has to push back the joke of just how Dorian can pay him back, that being his usual flippant reply. "I really don't," he replies instead and lets that sink in before he goes on with a wink and half smile, "Though I wouldn't be opposed to you saving your fancy magic just for the enemies, but hey, I'll like you either way."

The startled, relaxed laugh in reply is more than enough for Bull.

\-----

Trevelyan is decidedly not pleased.

Not only had he awoken far earlier than he would have liked, and in the dreadfully uncomfortable bed of the tavern, but he had  _been_ awakened due to news of an important meeting with his councillors that required his presence. As soon as possible. Naturally that had sparked his curiosity so he had forgone returning to his room first to freshen up and instead went directly to the War Room. After all it had to be something important; perhaps they had found information on Corypheus or perhaps Hawke had heard further news of the Grey Wardens. There had been so many possibilities.

He certainly hadn't expected to be ripped from his bed only to be _scolded_ about sexual harassment.

"I fail to see the problem here." Trevelyan glowers at Cullen, Leliana and Josephine while pointedly not looking at Cassandra. "I wasn't _harassing_ her. I am not even interested in fucking her. I just wanted to mess with her. She did not appreciate it so she responded." He gestured to the injury to his eye which was rapidly becoming more visible. "And that was that."

With a clear mind now, Trevelyan knows that he had been a dick to Cassandra. That was the only reason he didn't feel the need to respond to the punishment he was being given in response to his actions. He is aware that he likely deserves it and that it had been a cruel joke - but this? Tattling on him to the councillors? That was unnecessary and he had expected better from her.

"And you really think it's okay to treat people that way?" Cullen asks him in disbelief, "You really expect troops to rally to your cause, to jump when you tell them to, to obey your orders, when you can't even keep your own lusts in check?"

Frowning in annoyance, Trevelyan snaps, "Well I'm so sorry that we don't all wear chastity belts, Commander, but I fail to see what this has to with the Inquisition."

"I quite agree." The words, surprisingly, come from Cassandra herself. And she is giving Cullen an odd look, one that causes him to take a step away from Trevelyan in frustration. "This matter has been dealt with; I see no need to linger in the past." She looks at him. Her eyes are cold and yet...they don't seem to be any harder than usual.

In spite of himself he finds relief in that. The last thing he needs to worry about is whether or not she would still have his back in a fight. It seems like she will and that is a good thing - she is an impressive fighter.

"Even if both sides are willing to overlook the matter in this instance, that does not mean it did not happen," Josephine cut in earnestly. The entire matter made her very uncomfortable - it was obvious in the way she clenched the side of her desk and worried her bottom lip. "These kinds of outbursts are not the attention that the Inquisition needs-"

"No one was there to see it!" Trevelyan counters, "It was an incident, it happened, it's over. Only Cassandra and I were there and we are fine so why are _you_ harping on it?" he demands.

"History repeats itself." Leliana cuts in before Josephine can reply and Trevelyan almost wants to roll his eyes. It's sickening how protective she is of the ambassador - it would drive him crazy if he were her, how the spy master liked to act as if she couldn't handle anything on her own. "And there are other events coming up where you can  _not_ make these kinds of mistakes. The great players would tear you apart."

"Oh yes, your mysterious "Game"," Trevelyan makes air quotes with his fingers, knowing it's juvenile but unable to resist all the same. All Orlesians are so full of themselves, how they like to act as though no one else has any kind of politics and, if you're not from _Orlais_ , you can't possibly understand political intrigue. "You forget that I am actually of noble birth. House Trevelyan-"

"Is nothing compared to the empress of Orlais." Leliana interrupts succinctly.

Seemingly sensing he is about to argue the point, Josephine speaks up again. "This bickering is pointless and needless. We have already sent back acceptance to the ball to Gaspard, we can hardly recall it now."

"So then I'm excused?" Trevelyan asks impatiently, this really wasn't how he wanted to spend his morning.

The four councillors exchanged looks before Cullen spoke with a sigh. "Yes Inquisitor, for now. Just know that further outbursts like this will  _not_ be tolerated. And-"

"Cullen," Cassandra interrupted him sharply, causing the Commander to sigh. Well at least it was somewhat comforting to see he wasn't the only one she put in his place.

"And then, yes, very well." Cullen finished lamely turning to Leliana who nodded in agreement.

"Just one last thing." This time from Josephine, "I know you normally enjoy the ability to pick your own companions on various missions, but surely you see how even the slightest action can sway the crowd in your favor or against you." Lifting a hand to cut of the protest she evidentially knew was coming from him, she went on, "I request that you allow us to select your party for the event. Since you are already committed to going, that is understandable, but the last thing we need are further rumors that the Qun, Tevinter or the Wardens are in bed with the Inquisition."

Though he knows she is using it as a turn of phrase, Trevelyan laughs and can't seem to help himself. "Well they are definitely right about Tevinter, I would love to with the Qun, but the Wardens, really? I think once they met Blackwall they'd understand."

A chorus of groans meet his words but he cuts them off with another laugh. "Relax, I'm joking. Fine, you can set up whoever you want, it's not like we'll be doing any fighting so I don't care. Happy?"

Though they all still look somewhat unhappy, they do at least finally release him. It is a short trip to his quarters but it feels like an eternity until he dives happily into his warm soft bed. "Successfully avoided more drama..." he smirks up at his reflection in the mirror above his bed which smiles cheekily back down at him before he closes his eyes.

_Truly, it is good to be me._

\-----

It is with a start that Dorian awakens for the second time that morning.

Far differently from the first, this time he finds himself wrapped warmly in a few layers of blankets and still fully dressed. Sitting up, Dorian takes a moment to gather himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly before he looks around his unfamiliar surroundings.

 _I'm...still in Bull's hovel..._ he realizes with surprise that doubles as he sees said Qunari is somehow sleeping sitting up, in what has to be an uncomfortable position, in a chair.  _He let me have the bed, how curious..._ Dorian glances over Iron Bull's sleeping form as he recalls the previous night.

It was difficult to tell how much of his act Bull had bought, but Dorian hadn't been drunk at all. Indeed, it had been a long time since he had been drinking in the tavern and he had sobered up hours ago; probably about the same moment when the dear inquisitor had decided to spring something new on him in bed.

Not the choking thing - they had done that before a few times. Trevelyan seemed to enjoy it more than he did, if his comments about liking being able to silence him for once, as his face turn red and he sputtered, were any evidence - but still Dorian found a certain kind of thrill at being completely helpless beneath the other man, knowing that his life was literally in his hands.

No, the new thing was something Dorian hadn't enjoyed nearly as much. Quietly he pushed the blankets aside, careful not to wake the sleeping Qunari. Tugging up his own robes, Dorian spread his thighs and surveyed the damage in the light of day, streaming in through the hole in the roof. Several cuts of varying depth and length travelled up and down his inner thighs, with one in particular far too close to his balls for comfort.

Gritting his teeth, Dorian held back a hiss as he trailed a finger lightly over a cut, pleased to see that at least it wasn't as red as he feared and seemed to be healing already. Trying to walk back the other night with the cuts rubbing against his robes and his skin had been more painful than he had been expecting. Hopefully with several more hours to heal, and with him better rested, he would be able to make it to his room more quietly.

Unbidden, an imagine of what Bull would think if he found Dorian touching himself in his bed came to mind and Dorian drops his robes back down, embarrassed. This really wasn't the sort of thing he should be doing here.

Barely daring to breathe, Dorian slowly and silently got out of the bed and frowned in confusion as his bare feet hit the cold floor. _He took off my shoes, why?_ Dorian wonders before realizing, obviously, the Bull probably hadn't wanted the extra dirt in his bed. For as broken down as his shack was, it was surprisingly neat.

Dorian manages to get dressed and leave without further event, rather proud of himself that he'd managed not to wake Bull, even as he was a self professed light sleeper. Of course Dorian had plenty of practice with leaving bedrooms quietly. _Yes let it never be said you don't have any skills..._

Rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, Dorian holds back a groan as he makes his way up the long staircase to the front grounds of the castle and into the throne room. It still hurt to walk and Dorian wasn't pleased that the knife play had happened at all. Although it wasn't the first time someone had sprung something new on him in the middle of sex that he hadn't enjoyed...it was the first time that Dorian hadn't spoken up.

 _He had just looked so...delighted._ He sighed at the memory of Trevelyan's face and how it seemed to light up even as the small amount of blood seeped from him. How he had praised Dorian, how he had seemed so impressed and spoke about how few people were willing to do this... _Well, if it will keep him from jumping to another's bed...Even if I have no claim to stop him, if I can make him not want to..._

"I can't believe you told them!"

The sharp accusation interrupted Dorian's thoughts as he makes his way into the bottom level of the library. Oddly Solas was nowhere to be seen and instead he could hear Cassandra's loud and demanding voice, soon joined by Cullen's. "What else did you expect?! I can't believe you weren't going to tell me, Cass, we can't simply let him get away with it, he could have hurt you."

The emotion in the Commander's voice surprises him and Dorian enters to see them standing rather close to each other, hands clasped together privately. Feeling like he's intruding on an intimate moment, Dorian had just decided to head back out when Cassandra's eyes caught his. "Oh! Dorian!" She exclaims and immediately drops Cullen's hands.

"Don't mind me, please carry on." Dorian smiles at the pair as warmly as he can considering his somewhat unpleasant thoughts of moments ago. Really it was so charming when a guy and a girl found each other; just like a fairy tale.

"I-I believe we were just about done anyway. Cassandra. Dorian." Cullen nods to them each stiffly in turn before turning and walking past Dorian, out into the throne room. Still, when he walks past, Dorian catches the flush on the Commander's neck and he feels a little bad even as he smirks at Cassandra.

"Excellent choice, he is rather strapping." Dorian can't help but tease her.

At once he knows he's right, what with the way her entire face flushes prettily. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean." She grunts out before coughing, "Excuse me."

"By all means," he waves her past, " _Enjoy_ your day..." he extends the word out slightly and nods to where Cullen had left, grinning as she glares at him and yet also leaves the same way. "Ah, young love..."

Those words are somewhat hurtful for himself but still he feels his spirits lifted as he makes his way up to his quarters. Good to know that a relationship is working out for _someone_ in this unforgiving climate.


	4. Duality

It did not surprise Iron Bull in the least when he woke up alone the next morning. He could have perhaps gone without the stiffness in his body that sleeping in a chair caused, but the crow cawing annoyingly at him was rather difficult to ignore.

Groaning lowly to himself he stretched, popping a few joints along the way, before reaching for the letter the bird was insistent he take. Immediately it took flight again out of his roof, causing the Qunari to gaze up at the sunlight and wonder, for the first time, if perhaps he should have something done about that.

 _Nah, I can't do that now and let Dorian think it's because of him._ Bull grinned to himself as he unfurled the parchment, _that wouldn't be any fun...though I certainly wouldn't mind if he wanted to come back again._ Bull was surprised at himself that he wasn't even just referring to sex, but as he read the letter the contents flushed everything else right out of his mind.

Immediately he got to his feet, abruptly wide awake. With not a wasted movement he set his room back in order before grabbing his harness and gearing himself up. This took only a few moments and then he was on the move, making a bee-line up to the tower the spy master was so fond of lurking in.

The redhead greeted him with a smile, "Good morning Bull, I am rather surprised to see you up at such an early hour." Not bothering with a reply he wordlessly strode over to her and handed her the letter. The action caused her smile to fade, "What's the matter, no snarky comeback? Not even a slight flirt?" she asked even as her lithe fingers unwound the letter again and she dropped her eyes down to read.

After several beats she looked back at him. He could tell that she too had dropped the pleasantries and was in full spy master mode.

"I don't think it's a trap," he comments, nodding to the letter for emphasis - as if he could be talking about anything else, "I think it is legit. The Qunari - my people...want an alliance."

"Yes, this is definitely from the Ben Hassrath," She agrees with a slight nod, "It certainly matches the rest of their correspondence. But...this could be problematic, I can see why you'd be interested in showing me-"

"You would have seen it either way," Bull cuts her off which causes her lips to quirk in a slight smile, "I figured I might as well skip the middle man this time. I want to know what you think."

Instead of an answer she cocks her head slightly, "Have you run this past our Inquisitor?"

"Not...yet," Bull answers with a shrug, "I saw you first, and...well...I have a feeling he would get along fine with my people, but also that...he might not care as much about people who wouldn't."

Nodding in understanding she hands the letter back to him, "I can see your concern, but it also doesn't seem to me as though they wish for anything more than an alliance against the Venatori. Something that I believe can only benefit both sides...as for how much we would want to help the Qunari...I'm afraid that is the kind of decision only you would have the insight to make."

"No offense Red, but you're not being very helpful here," Bull sighs as he tucks the leather into the folds of his large breeches, "I do know my people and I know they want to spread, but...at the same time, it's not like we're converting. This is just us joining forces against Corypheus."

"It sounds like you've made up your mind then," Leliana answers back and Bull appreciates that she didn't mind the dig, "I'd say it sounds like a lot of worry over nothing at this point. What are you afraid of?"

Automatically Bull frowns at the question even as visions of Sera and Varric in torture machines flash through his mind. Qunari surrounding them, trying to break them past the point where their minds can snap back. They would just kill Cole outright. And Solas, Vivienne and Dorian...loud, obnoxious haughty Dorian, if he was allowed to live, would be chained and gagged the rest of his life, on a leash...

Angrily Bull blinks the image away.

"Nothing Red. I trust my people and this is only an alliance. Bringing the baddest of the bad asses the Qunari can bring to raise hell on Corypheus? I'm looking forward to it!" While Leliana didn't look like she completely believed his answer she smiled none the less.

So it was that Bull headed back down the long staircase, heading immediately over to the training yard, pleased to see Krem was already there. Because oh how much he needed to be hitting things. Now.

\-----

"Isn't it a little early for you, Altus? Don't normally see you slumming it with the rest of us until the sun sets."

Dorian turns slightly in his bar seat to smirk at Krem as he approached, "What can I say? I can hardly go a day without seeing your beautiful, smiling face." In reply the merc hits him on the shoulder, hard. "Such brute force and anger for one of my own people Krem, it hardly suites you."

"Oh shut up," Krem grumps back at him, "for all that boss just chewed me out the last thing I need to hear is your pathetic attempts at humor."

Gesturing for Krem to take the empty seat next to him, Dorian feels a little bad. He knows that the man is physically a woman, and while he agrees with Bull and most others around the Inquisition that it means jack shit, he can also understand how that could bother Krem some days. Particularly being hit on by a man - something Krem probably found unpleasant as he mostly had to endure it back when he had to play nice and put on a dress.

 _Or maybe he just doesn't like it when -you- flirt with him._ Dorian's mind, as per usual, helpfully supplied. Rolling his eyes to himself he threw a sympathetic arm around the other man's shoulders, "You know I could give him a good talking to if I thought it would do any good. Tell him not to mess with my best friend like that."

Snorting a laugh Krem rolls his eyes but doesn't push Dorian's arm off. Instead, he replies while signalling to the bartender that he'll have what Dorian's having. "Yeah sure, your only friend. And I bet that would work wonders too. Really nothing like having someone else yell at your boss for you."

"I would do it though!" Dorian insists, encouraged by the small smile Krem now wore and his teasing, "I would give him quite the tongue lashing."

Immediately Dorian regrets his choice of words even as it draws an actual laugh from the merc, "A tongue lashing? Interesting choice of words you have..."

"Not. Like. That." Dorian insists, going a little red.

"Oh I don't know..." Krem replies, "I think if that was what you were offering it probably would work. Chief seems to like a lot of different tongues, sure he wouldn't say no to yours. Or you to his. Seen you looking at him before-"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Dorian interrupts indignantly, "And furthermore, this will teach me for trying to cheer you up, honestly. For you to imply that I would oogle a qunari. Perish the very thought my friend. If you know what's best for you."

Even though he was actually somewhat serious about the last part, Krem laughs. "Oh relax, Dorian, I'm not going to do anything about it. Anyway, I doubt the Chief is up for that right this moment anyway. Serious stuff going down - that is kind of the problem. I don't blame him for being hard on me, he's worried and it's pretty obvious."

Dorian looks at Krem questioningly but, before he can voice his question, he is interrupted by the Inquisitor and Bull. The pair entered the bar and immediately strode over to them. Dorian's eyes lingered on Bull - _not like that not like that_ \- looking for any sign of what Krem had hinted at. While it was subtle there was definitely something different about Bull; he seemed tense where normally he was so at ease. Or at least he put up a very good front of being at ease, but now his Ben Hassrath training was starting to show through.

Setting his drink back down on the bar, Dorian stood as he listened to the Inquisitor sum up the mission. Something told him he was definitely going to want to be sober for this trip.

\-----

"Dorian, remember when you said that I could ask you questions?"

"Cole, do you...do you really think now is the right time for that?"

"Any time _could_ be the right time. When would it be the wrong time? You didn't say when I first asked."

Dorian looked at the boy helplessly as he leaned against his staff, sighing.

They were settled down on the Storm Coast, waiting for Bull's Ben Hassrath contact to show. Apparently the Qunari as a people had a thing for being fashionably late. _Or maybe they're watching us right now, getting a read before working with us..._ Dorian glanced around him at the greenery as though expecting a horde of Qunari to rush at him. It did seem like something a spy organization would do.

Honestly, he wasn't sure what he was even doing on this mission. Trevelyan had made it perfectly clear that he didn't require mages for most of his missions, even if he did specifically bring -Dorian-, a mage from the Empire, to meet with a -Qunari- contact seemed like some sort of cruel joke. Not that he would've thought the Inquisitor would do that intentionally but he really was starting to wonder.

"Is...is now a bad time?" Cole interrupted his thoughts again, looking up at him with those big eyes.

"I...I suppose not," Dorian conceded hesitantly.

Cole didn't seem to understand how sensitive most of the questions he asked were but at the same time, now was certainly better than last time. Then they had been in the heat of battle; Blackwall and the Inquisitor were there to hear his private thoughts. At least this time Bull was distracted, fussing over his troops, and Trevelyan was some distance away sharpening his daggers.

"You don't like it, do you?" Cole asked quietly; Dorian realized the boy had been watching him watch the Inquisitor.

Embarrassed, Dorian turned away and shook his head abruptly, "No, Cole, it's not...it's not that simple."

"Sharp and sudden the spiking biting pain and the shock, he's not doing, he can't be, he wouldn't, but then he is but then can't do anything, helpless and bound by feelings even as unwanted as they are, unable to speak as the pain fills and hurts past the healing as-"

"Cole!" Dorian had flushed at his words and abruptly cuts him off.

He jerks his head to see the Inquisitor’s sharp green eyes are no longer on his daggers but are instead focused on Dorian himself. The expression on his face is completely unreadable but also so cold that Dorian can't stand to look at it a moment longer. Gasping a sharp breath he turns bodily around to face the now very confused spirit.

"I don't understand why you let it happen. He would stop if you told him to."

So childlike, the unasked question is, and so simple an answer it would be for him to give to.

"Cole," Dorian grits his teeth and shakes his head sharply, "No."

"I've hurt you, Dorian!" Cole gasps innocently, shaking his head, "No, I'm sorry, I don't mean to, I won't ask, I just-"

"Strange company you keep, Hissrad," a new voice joins, and Dorian turns to see that an elf seemed to have materialized out of nowhere right next to the Inquisitor.

Dorian dares to give him a brief glance but Trevelyan is still giving him that unreadable expression. Trevelyan gives him the look for a moment more before turning to the elf. "I trust that you are our contact then?" he asks, all business.

Dorian tugs slightly on Cole's shoulder and the two take a few steps back as Bull moves forward to greet what was apparently an old friend. _How close was he, had he been listening, maker, does everyone know my business..._ Dorian can't help but wonder as he struggles to compose himself again.

Whatever calming effect Cole had thought his question would have undoubtedly backfired. Sometimes making things public and known only served to heighten the tension instead of relieve it, which Dorian could only assume was the spirit's original intention.

Now he couldn't seem to stop himself from picking a fight with the elf of the Qun, feeling exposed to the point that he was even protective of his extremely flawed homeland. Still Dorian refused to meet the Inquisitor's eyes when Trevelyan pointed out both Tevinter and the Qunari have their problems. Instead he looked into Bull's eye, but just felt a stab of guilt at the expression he found there. Of course there were far bigger things on the line now for everyone. Dorian let out a breath and muttered an agreement as an apology.

As the mission continued Dorian resolutely faced away from the Inquisitor or found reasons to scan the horizon, looking for enemies. Now was absolutely not the time for them to have to talk about any of this. To talk about what he may have heard, or not, or anything to do with feelings, and that was even assuming the Inquisitor gave a shit how he felt. Evidence was rather to the contrary in that regard.

So it was he found himself almost looking for reasons to argue with their contact. Gatt. He did not like him. He did not like the way he treated Iron Bull, as though he was some kind of lesser form now that he was no longer officially serving the Qun. As though being a part of the Inquisition was selling out and becoming weak. As though the elf was even a quarter the man that Bull was.

Dorian found himself surprised at his own protective thoughts, so that when Gatt questioned his own presence he responded by letting his bad mood out in the form of sarcasm. It was clearly appreciated by no one, but honestly who did the elf think he was threatening? Did he not realize the kind of power Dorian had at his beck and call at any moment with merely the barest movement? He really would like to see the elf try and teach him, just give him a reason...

"Dorian..." Iron Bull spoke his name as almost a whisper and instantly it quelled the rage inside of him.

"Forget it. Fine," Dorian snapped instead, biting his lip as he turned away.

Normally he wouldn't allow himself to be so easily goaded, and it really wasn't fair. Not that he cared about being fair to Gatt, but it wasn't fair to Bull. This was his mission, his men and his people on the line, and Dorian was making it about himself when it wasn't.

Instead Dorian found himself taking his rage out on the enemy, enjoying the violence a bit more than normal, gritting his teeth in a grim kind of smile as they secured their spot along the beach.

"We're clear, Gatt," Iron Bull nodded to the elf to signal the dreadnought.

Watching him, Dorian couldn't help his own small smile as he watched Bull proudly point out the Chargers and how they had already sent up their signal.

"I knew you gave them the easier job," Gatt responded mockingly and Dorian was again struck by the urge to snap at the elf.

Instead Bull just smiled at him, taking the mocking in stride, and Dorian let out a breath, sighing to himself. He knew he was distracting himself from his own situation by focusing on his dislike of Gatt and that it wasn't fair. He was Iron Bull's friend and the least Dorian could do was respect that.

"There's the dreadnought...that brings back memories," Iron Bull directed their attention to the water and again Dorian finds himself wanting to smile at the tone in Bull's words. He wasn't so sure why Iron Bull being happy and proud made him feel so good but it certainly wasn't something he was interested in figuring out at the moment. Better to just enjoy it than analyze it.

At once Bull’s mood abruptly changed as his body language tensed; his smile turned to a grimace and he growled, "Crap..."

With a start, Dorian realized he has been watching Bull instead of the scene below. Tearing his eyes away he looked over the sinking Venatori ship and the firing dreadnought before moving to the Chargers. He let out his own low curse in Tevene.

Trevelyan was the first to speak out loud.

"The Chargers can't stand against that kind of force, Bull," he speaks emotionlessly, eyes calculating the scene before them.

"No...they can't," for the first time in all the time Dorian has known him the Bull’s words are soft, timid, unsure.

"Your men need to hold that position, Bull," Gatt cuts in sharply, almost as a reprimand.

Dorian clenched his fists, willing himself not to react, reminding himself this was Bull's business not his. He was glad for his restraint when Bull turned to the elf with a glare, "They do that, they're dead."

"And if they -don't-," Gatt explains slowly, condescendingly, "the Venatori retake it and the dreadnought is dead. You'd be throwing away an alliance between the Inquisition and the Qunari!" When Bull only mutters an unconvinced sound, his tone turns even harsher, "You'd be declaring yourself Tal-Vashoth!"

Dorian is not entirely sure what that means but it gets a clear reaction from Bull as the Qunari looks as though he's been slapped. Even through the forced glare, Dorian could see it in his face even as the elf continued; Dorian saw the pain and the struggle and felt his heart twist. It's an impossible situation and Gatt wasn't making it better by scolding him.

"They're my men," Bull speaks to him but it's almost pleading, it was almost like...like he was going to allow the elf to decide. The indecision was painful, to see it tearing Bull up so...Dorian watched him turn helplessly to the Inquisitor and follow suit. Surely Trevelyan could see, surely Trevelyan knew what the Chargers meant to the Inquisition, what they meant to Bull...

"We need to hold that hill at all costs," Dorian's eyes widened in surprise at the Inquisitor's matter of fact tone. His eyes were dark, cold and calculating as he watched the hill, watched the Venatori start to swarm. "Your soldiers are going to give their lives for a good cause, everyone knows the cost of war. They know it too."

"No," Bull argued softly as the Venatori gained ground, are almost on them, "We are doing it for the Qun, the alliance, the Inquisition...my men...they don't care about any of that. They're giving their lives for me."

Before he even realized he was doing it, Dorian was moving forward. "No. They aren't." His voice started to break before gaining strength. This wasn't his place, his decision, but it damn well wasn't Gatt or Trevelyan's either. It was Bull's. And if it were up to Bull, he would choose his men every time.

The knowledge of that flooding him, Dorian darted forward and grab the horn out of Bull's slack hand.

"What are you doing?!" Gatt demanded of him angrily and instead of lifting his magic to defend himself from the blow he knew was coming, Dorian closed his eyes, lifted the horn to his lips and blew as hard as he could.

\-----

Trevelyan knew the risks going into the mission, he knew there was a chance things would go south - as Bull had said, covering a dreadnought run was a risky manoeuvre.

When it came down to it and things turned, he had known there was only one answer. The Chargers were a small company of men. Good fighters, yes, good for morale, yes - but they were a small group of men. That was nothing compared to the soldiers, provisions, and information they could gain by an alliance with the Qun. There was no question in his mind. So when Bull had turned to him it was easy to tell him what to do. And it was predictable that Bull would listen to him and allow his better, more removed and logical, judgment to win the day.

Dorian was always the wild card.

Shock quickly followed by anger flooded him immediately when he saw and recognized what Dorian was about to do. But Trevelyan found himself only taking a half step forward to intercept him before he froze in his tracks.

 _The pain, hurt and unwanted feelings...he thinks I forced him. He thinks it was rape, or something like it. But it was never rape, it wasn't..._ Trevelyan's eyes narrowed as the thoughts filled and distracted him. Waves of an unfamiliar and unpleasant emotion filled him: guilt.

So the rogue stood still as though frozen and allowed the mage to blow the horn. Quickly Trevelyan looked over at Gatt and recognized the rage on the elf's face. The Qunari trained him well, he is fast and probably usually lethal, but unfortunately for them, Trevelyan was faster.

Before the dagger so much as skimmed Dorian, Trevelyan was there to deflect it. Protectively he darted in between them and crushed Gatt's delicate wrist in his grip, his other hand slamming his own dagger to sink deeply into the elf's side, "You don't. Touch. The mage." he snarled in a whisper at Gatt.

"Dorian, you...and Gatt, I..." Iron Bull sounded conflicted but Trevelyan didn't look at him; instead he kicked the elf hard in the side he had just stabbed.

To his credit the elf didn't cry and instead clutched his side and still managed to sound indignant as he groaned up at Bull, "Hissrad! You didn't stop him!"

Kneeling down, Trevelyan held his dagger very close to Gatt's, face causing him to clam up, "You don't get to speak. You don't get to touch my mage. You don't get to decide what is best for the Inquisition. Get out of here before I change my mind about allowing you to live." Trevelyan backed up, sheathing his blade, "And his name isn't Hissrad. It's Iron Bull."

Turning away from the elf, not giving him another glance, he instead looked at his own companions. This had gone poorly and he didn't like his men to second guess him. Still, he allowed himself to crack a small smile at the twin looks of astonishment and relief on their faces.

Moving close he pointed a finger into Dorian's chest. "I don't like people second guessing me, so don't make it a habit," he instructed Dorian firmly before rubbing his finger gently against his chest and looking to Bull instead, "I'm glad for your men. Be sure to buy them a drink. On me." It was the least he could do after almost getting them killed and all.

But that was then and this was now. A decision was made. Time to move on.


	5. In The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have a Beta and endless amounts of Thank Yous go to Metal_mako_dragon for somehow managing to clean up my rambling! Seriously, I really really appreciate it!

The trip back to Skyhold from the Storm Coast was traveled mostly in silence.

Not entirely as most of Bull's merry band seemed content with their role in the fight. When they rejoined, their faces were all smiles through their blood and sweat. That is, until the sudden, loud explosion of the dreadnought. That had effectively silenced them other than a few whispered words.

For his part Trevelyan had said everything he felt needed to be addressed before moving onward. It had not gone well - they had lost the Qunari as potential allies as well as a fairly talented rogue elf who might have joined - but it also could have gone a lot worse.

Though it was due to Dorian's interference and not his own decision, Trevelyan had no problem with the Chargers survival. He had meant what he said to Bull - they knew the cost of war. Men like that, who knew the score and knew what they may be called upon to sacrifice in war, were always worth double their weight in gold. And in spite of Bull disagreeing with him, he knew it was true - it was precisely why he had protected Dorian when he interfered.

 _Though perhaps not the only reason..._ he thinks, still not daring to glance at the mage. While he may have said his piece it was clear Bull, Dorian and Cole had not. Even Trevelyan couldn't miss the way Bull stared at Dorian like he had never seen him quite so clearly before. Although the mage himself seemed much more interested in burning a hole in the back of his own head with how hard he was staring. A point Trevelyan was doing his best to ignore.

Cole, meanwhile, was clearly unsettled by the tension but after his interaction with Dorian did not actually risk saying anything more; for which Trevelyan was grateful. It was difficult enough to avoid talking to Dorian without the spirit trying to start trouble again. Not that that had been his intent, but still the damage was done.

When they had finally reached the gates of Skyhold, Trevelyan was surprised to find Leliana waiting for them expectantly. Seeing the question in her eyes, Trevelyan was about to cut her off when suddenly her lips quirked downward and she closed her mouth, stepping aside to let them through.

Though she seemed to have gotten the picture, Trevelyan still spoke to her, hoping the others heeded his words as well, "Later. I will tell you when to go to the war room - but later."

Not sparing a backwards glance at Dorian, Trevelyan strode towards the stairs purposefully, heading toward his room. Suddenly, he found he was extremely exhausted.

\-----

_"Remember my boy, you musn't make eye contact. To give them the false illusion that you may have some kind of interest in them would only be cruel."_

_"But...what if I do? That boy has a wooden horse! Look, it's so cool, I wanna play with it!" The boy, no older than 6 with the deep green eyes, looked at his mother in wonder._

_"Fredrick - you heard my son. He requires that toy, get it for him. Now."_

_"But mama I-" The boy worried his bottom lip as he watched the guard snag the toy away from the child, causing him to cry and his mother rush over to comfort him. "Now he's sad."_

_"Maybe." The boy's mother agreed with a smile causing the boy to look at her in confusion, "But now you have your toy. And he has served his purpose."_

_Grabbing the toy out of the guard's hands, the boy held it to his chest. It must be important if it was worth all of this. "His purpose?" he asked in confusion, "To give me toys?"_

_"You are the important one, my love, never forget that."_

\--

_"What in the Void do you think you're doing?"_

_The boy is now no longer a boy but a young man of age ten and five. Currently he is lounging in his mother's bed with his pants around his ankles while a lovely young serving elf with quite a good tongue is doing pleasant things to him. Another - perhaps her fraternal twin, the boy can't remember now - is laid behind him, rubbing his back and shoulders as he sits forward at the sight of his father._

_Still his tone manages to sound bored, "You have eyes, do you not? You can see what I'm doing."_

_His father seems distracted by something for a moment before his eyes sharpen, "You missed your lessons for this?"_

_"Oh was that now? I do uhhm, seem to have lost track of time..."_

_"Enough! Out!"_

_"Orr..." the boy argued, his hand coming to rest on the back of the elven female's hand, encouraging her to stay there, "I stay here like this with these elves, whose mother you raped and murdered, and you go back to your wine - or shall I tell mother all about where exactly you've been going the past two nights?"_

\-----

Trevelyan starts, his heart pounding as his eyes fly open. Gritting his teeth, he glares up at the mirror affixed over his bed. Tearing all the sheets off he throws them angrily to the floor, letting out an audible growl as he does so. There is a plate from the morning's breakfast still on the floor near the bed and he takes the opportunity to pick it up and throw it as hard as he can into the nearest wall finding some kind of enjoyment in the cacophony the metal dish makes as it slams into the stone.

It had been years since he had last thought of his father - thought of the monstrous things he father did behind closed doors.

 _And there is only one reason why I'm thinking of them now..._ Trevelyan stands from the bed and distractedly wraps himself in a robe to warm up. The sun had not even set yet - likely he had not even managed an hour of sleep.

"I am _nothing_ like him..." he whispers to himself heatedly, pacing as he does so.

In that moment the door starts to creak before abruptly stopping. Squinting his eyes, Trevelyan stops short and stills his breath as his eyes dart to his weaponry - so far away. Not making a sound he creeps towards the door, confident in his ability to take his visitor by surprise if this was meant to be some form of sneak attack.

Just when he is about to give up and go for his weapons just in case, Trevelyan hears the sound of floor boards creaking. Only this time they sound further away instead of closer. All at once he knows who his visitor is going to be. Groaning aloud he drops his stealth stance and flings the door open.

"Fine already, just come in then," he snaps, going into the hall to grab the arm of a somewhat startled looking Dorian and tugging him inside.

\-----

While Dorian may not be the best person at taking hints and reading body language, it did not take a genius to see that the Inquisitor wanted to be alone. Which was fair, really, he imagined there had to be some kind of period of grief after losing such a large and impressive ally as the Qunari. Bull also did not seem to want his company - if the way he would stare and then quickly look away and avoid conversation was anything to go by.

Still, Dorian himself couldn't seem to ignore the lump in his chest nor the knot in his stomach after everything that had happened on the Storm Coast. It might have been best for _him_ if he could just go to Trevelyan and talk about what had happened, or go to Bull and maybe explain himself or apologize or just at least do _something_ to lessen the tension...but that didn't mean it'd be best for anyone else.

"Oh yes, I'm simply so magnanimous..." Dorian snorts to himself as he sits in his usual armchair, alone in the library.

"Well I doubt the book is going to do much disagreeing on that point, Sparkler."

Dorian starts, having not heard the dwarf enter, laughing lowly to himself. "Ah Varric. Yes, you seem to have caught me. This is where I go to refresh, not to read, simply because if you compliment yourself in front of volumes of books they aren't exactly going to disagree, are they? I find they make quite enjoyable companions."

Varric's eyebrows climb at that comment but he doesn't argue the point - much. "Should I take that to mean that I'm interrupting - if you prefer the companionship of books over people?"

"I didn't say prefer," Dorian shakes his head, getting to his feet and stretching his arms over his head, "But surely you've noticed how much I enjoy the sound of my own voice."

Dorian can't tell if Varric bought that particular statement or not as the dwarf simply chooses not to reply. It is a difficult line for Dorian to walk at times. The truth in his statement bordering on a lie. But if there is one thing Dorian has learned in life it is this: if you say something often enough it may not be true, but everyone else will at least believe that you believe it is true.

When it becomes apparent Varric isn't going to reply, Dorian goes on. "Well I trust you have come to fetch me for some reason, haven't you? Is our dear Inquisitor ready for that meeting in the war room by chance? Do tell me we are not going to Emprise Du Lion, Varric, if you have any kindness in you..."

"Sure I can tell you we're not going there," Varric answers agreeably, "especially as no one sent me to get you. I actually just wanted to talk to you about something...something I've been meaning to talk to you about for a while, actually..."

Reading the seriousness of Varric’s tone, Dorian sits once more, gesturing to a chair next to him. "You have my undivided attention."

Shaking his head, Varric declines the chair, "Ah, no thanks, this won't take long really. I just wanted to ask you...if you're...all right."

"An odd question," Dorian returns calmly with a smile, "considering the mission we just returned from, I believe that is a concern better directed at the Bull."

"Believe me, I tried," Varric replies with an easy laugh, "They really weren't joking with the expression 'stubborn as a bull', you know - he says he's fine...in fact..." here Varric gives him a sidelong look, "It was actually he who directed me to you. Gotta wonder why."

Surprised, Dorian is silent for a long moment. "How...strange," is how he finally chooses to reply, eying Varric, "I am more than fine and I don't know why the Bull would direct you to me of anyone..."

"Probably for the same reason you're directing me to him?" Varric's lips quirk here and not for the first time Dorian is struck by just how frustratingly brilliant the dwarf is.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dorian replies quickly, frowning, "Furthermore-" he cuts himself off quickly as a sudden though muffled metallic slam startles the birds above them, causing them to squawk and some to take flight.

"Sounds like someone is throwing a tantrum again," Varric laughs as Dorian realizes he's staring in the direction of Trevelyan's room - the direction the noise had come from. Turning red, he opens his mouth to argue but is silenced by the dwarf raising a hand, "I get it, you're fine. He's fine, you're all fine. Just...try and keep it that way?"

Before Dorian can reply the dwarf saunters off.

 _Bull asked him to check up on me...but why?_ Dorian wonders as he stares after the dwarf. Several possibilities come to mind, but none of them seemed to fit quite right. Especially as Bull seemed much more of a 'do it yourself' kind of person.

 _Perhaps he heard Cole..._ Dorian thinks not for the first time, _and perhaps his conscience demands he make sure I'm okay, but he doesn't actually want to have to interact - to give me the wrong impression that he cares, that he wants to be involved._

A deep seated urge to go and visit the Bull hits Dorian hard. If that was truly what he thought then it was only fair that Dorian set him straight. But at the same time...that noise had come from Trevelyan's room - which meant that Trevelyan was awake.

Maybe neither Bull nor Trevelyan wanted to talk to him but Dorian could only be magnanimous for so long. And now he was tired of waiting and would so much rather just have it out, over and done with.

So it was not much later Dorian finds himself in front of the Inquisitor's door, debating whether or not this was truly a good idea. After a few moments of wavering he turns from the door, deciding it wasn't Trevelyan's fault he couldn't deal with his own emotions. However, he only manages a few steps when he's suddenly bodily tugged inside, the door slamming shut behind them.

Seeing Trevelyan often takes his breath away but this time, it is for a different reason. His normally perfectly brushed brown hair is a wild mess, his robe wrapped haphazardly around his compact muscular body and his deep green eyes are alight with energy.

"So what? What, what is it? What do you want, Dorian?" Trevelyan demands of him aggressively, pushing him against the wall with a hand.

All at once extremely unsure of himself, Dorian takes a deep breath steeling his resolve. "I need to talk to you. I know you heard some of what Cole said, and...I need you to know that he was not completely right, in what I think and feel."

At once Trevelyan drops his hand as though burned - not quite the reaction Dorian had been looking for. "You mean in how I raped you?"

Wincing, Dorian shakes his head quickly, voice firm. "No. You did not. I did not say no."

Even as he points it out it seems Trevelyan isn't buying it and Dorian's heart twists for him. In spite of his aggressive and rude behavior it's obvious this is tormenting him. "You didn't say yes either," Trevelyan argues, taking several steps away from him before turning back, "You were stumbling down drunk and you didn't want it. I used my position of power over you and I-"

"No!" Dorian interrupts loudly - almost shouting, "No, you didn't, Trev, you didn't." Voice going softer, Dorian moves to him, moves to embrace him but the rogue shies away from his touch so his arms drop down to his sides.

"Yes, I did! I did those things and you were too fucking scared to stop me because I-"

The hard smack of skin against skin echoes in the air for just a moment and Trevelyan turns to stare at him with wide eyes. "Did...did you just _slap_ me?" he asks, incredulous.

"You are not listening to me," Dorian accuses angrily, glaring at him even as he shakes the pain out of his stinging hand, "I am not some wilting flower and I am _not_ afraid of you." Now it's Dorian's turn to turn away and pace as he speaks.

"No, I don't like bloodplay - I don't like your knives slicing me and I don't like any kind of blood near anything sexual," stopping he turns to give the surprisingly still silent Inquisitor a withering look, "honestly, you know I'm from Teventir - pretty much any kind of play involving blood goes on there, you act like I don't know any better.  But when it comes to you and I, I know that I don't like it, but I did it anyway."

Now those gorgeous green eyes stare at him hard, narrowed as the Inquisitor asks the question, "Why?"

Dorian knew this moment was coming so he lifts his jaw and admits it without flinching, "Because I love you."

Looking into his eyes, Dorian sees them widen a fraction before closing against his words. Dorian's heart drops somewhere into his stomach as Trevelyan shakes his head, "No you don't."

Gripping his hands into fists at his sides simply because it feels better than doing nothing, Dorian stays firm, "I don't expect you to say it back or anything. But I know how I feel - and I do."

"You are...attached, I will grant you, but you do not, Dorian, look..." And for the first time Trevelyan looks away from him, causing Dorian to let out a bark of laughter even as the Inquisitor's eyes dart back to his face.

"You can deny it if it makes you feel better, Trev..." Dorian can almost feel his defense mechanism sliding into place, "But why don't we put this matter aside? There are plenty of other things I do enjoy in bed...ones that you've enjoyed in the past yourself..." As he speaks Dorian saunters closer to him, swaying his hips in what he hopes in a tantalizing kind of way.

Clearly this whole...confessing his feelings thing wasn't going to end well, but the least he could do is still escape with a physical release...But a hand to his chest, firmly holding him arms length away crushes those thoughts as he meets Trevelyan's eyes, trying to keep his own emotion locked tightly down.

"Dorian, I'm going to be honest with you," Trevelyan's tone is serious as Dorian's breath catches in his throat, "I have little interest in having a meaningless fuck with someone who lets people rape them in the name of love. You have issues. And I think it'd be best if you figure them out yourself before I end up using you."

"Well aren't you just so thoughtful," Dorian replies, breathing hard through his nose, just barely holding a grip over his emotions, refusing to show any more weakness and refusing to beg for it. "But nevertheless, as you wish." Making a show of it he gives the Inquisitor a low bow, "Your loss, after all..." And that is just a downright lie but he goes on, trying anything now to save face, "If you change your mind you know where I'll be..."

_In the tavern, drinking until I can forget I even have a heart._

\-----

Upon their return to Skyhold, The Iron Bull had the best of intentions to avoid everyone for at least the next few days. As much as he wanted, needed, to talk to Dorian _why why for the love of his Maker, why_ the Bull could see both he and the Inquisitor had other preoccupations.

What was more, it was probably best for everyone, including Bull himself. Everyone around Skyhold saw of him what he wanted them to see - easy going merc who was steady as a rock. Jovial and perhaps excitable mid-battle, yes, but no one had ever seen him low and he did not intend for them to.

_I can still be that, I am myself...The Qun hasn't guided me for years, not truly, if it ever did._

After sending Varric to check on Dorian, Bull called the Chargers together for a meeting. He had anticipated the talk with his men to be the most difficult part. How exactly could you walk up to your own men and tell them you had made a decision that would have killed them if not for the interference of another? Of course Bull could have avoided the topic completely but then he would not be able to look at any of them the same; knowing he was misleading them.

So he had gathered them together in his own quarters early in the night, not wanting to delay. The space was a bit cramped but the alcohol supplied, to his word, by the Inquisitor was aplenty.

There the Bull confessed the choice he had almost made to them. There he bore his soul to them, explained in detail everything that occurred while they were fighting for their lives. And there he told them that he was stepping down - that Krem would be their leader now.

And it was in that moment he found out just how hard Krem's playful punches could be. For the second time in such a short time Bull was taken completely aback as his men rejected the idea outright. The Chargers shockingly seemed to have taken the news he almost had them killed in stride and, if anything, renewed their allegiance to him.

It was something Bull took seriously and he vowed to them that he would do better for them from then on.

Still, he could not seem to shake his own tension and unease.

Resting in his own room, in his own chair he had slept in just the prior night...was no good. It just didn't feel the same. Even when pleasantly buzzed, with his men long gone, he found himself bouncing his legs, unsure what to do with all his nervous energy.

Something was different since he left the Qun. Something was _wrong_ with him.

Several loud and deep, banging knocks on his front door actually take Bull by such surprise that he jumps - another clue that something is wrong. Still he doesn't have much time to ponder this as the normally refined and playful voice angrily shouts at him through the still closed door.

"This is all your fault you know!"

Blinking dumbly in surprise Bull gets to his feet. That was definitely Dorian, but then...Dorian was meant to be talking to the Inquisitor. Which usually leads to Dorian having sex with the Inquisitor. Which definitely never leads to drunken Dorian banging angrily on his door.

Before he could figure out what to say, his hand reaching for the door to open it, a blast of magic knocks the door into him and both of them backward several feet. Shoving the door, which has now completely broken away from the hinges, aside Bull stares at the mage who is now panting from apparent exertion.

"What...what did you do that for? What did I say about drinking and mag-uhhm...Dorian?" Bull cuts off as he gets a closer look at the mage's face. His eyes are hard and glaring but there is no mistaking how puffy they seem and the emotion behind the anger - something is definitely wrong.

"No," Dorian shakes his head fiercely, stepping into the room, "No, you don't get to ask me that, you don't get to act concerned! Not after you did...you...what you did!" Here Dorian's anger seems to falter for the first time and Bull continues to stare at him.

"What...I...did?" he repeats carefully. _I may be drunk but I'm not that drunk...he's not making any sense..._ Bull decides but doesn't dare to take a step forward, eying Dorian's staff uncertainly.

Coming closer into the room, Dorian stumbles over the rug on the floor. Instinctively Bull reaches out a hand to steady him, the mage's arm cold to his touch for just a moment before Dorian rips it away again, almost over balancing as he bites out, " _Don't_ touch me. Not after you...what you...did."

Bull doesn't have anything at all to say to that so he settles for simply staring at Dorian. He doesn't think his own condition of being jumpy and unfocused has anything to do with this...Dorian clearly isn't making any sense, but Bull can't even begin to guess what he means. Normally he would at least be able to follow the thread of logic, but here he simply...can't.

At once a light seems to go on behind Dorian's eyes and Bull watches as a flush of red creeps over his cheeks. Privately, he thinks the look rather suites the mage but he doesn't dare say anything to him - let alone that.

Instead Dorian is the first to speak, "Uhm...you're not...that is I mean to say...I should...go." In his haste to leave, Dorian twists his feet on the rug again and falls forward, smacking hard into the wall. "Oww..." he moans faintly.

Perhaps Bull's reflexes aren't as bad as he feared because he can see Dorian start to fall before he does and manages to move forward and catch him under his arm just before the mage can hit the floor.

"I take it there is more trouble in paradise..." Bull mutters to himself as he picks the mage bodily up and carries him over to his bed, laying him gently on it. Sure enough, that forceful hit to the head combined with however much alcohol Dorian had inhaled was enough to make him lose consciousness.

The Bull moves a thumb gently over Dorian's forehead, barely touching him, and already can feel a bump rising. "Well...that's not going to be pleasant for you in the morning..." he sighs to himself again. Whatever Dorian had come to yell at him about would just have to wait until later - if the mage could even remember by that point.

Already Bull can feel himself becoming more sober as he moves away from Dorian's body and back to pull out his kit of healing herbs. "I'm pretty sure I already told you that you need to take better care of yourself..." Somehow it's easier to talk to Dorian like this - and Bull feels better having something to focus on, mixing together another healing rub he knows Dorian is going to need in the morning - plus likely a little something for the hangover he is bound to have.

"You have all the knowledge of your fancy magic and history and theory mixed up in your pretty head but you seem to be lacking in common sense..." Bull continues as he mixes, "You are not really a soldier in the Inquisition - most of the mages aren't, but with you it's something more, Dorian...I've known stronger and tougher men lose to alcohol, let it control them. You can't let it have control over you, it is not a kind master..."

Finishing, Bull sighs as he resigns himself to another night in his chair. Moving near the bed he first sets both the salve and mixture down onto the small table near the bed - within easy reach once the mage awakens. Unable to stop himself, Bull's eye flits over Dorian's sleeping form, wondering just how old he could be. _He looks so young here like this...can't be very much older than twenty and five..._

Before he even realized he was doing it Bull runs a hand through the mage's messy hair, feeling it with his finger tips. _Softer than I thought..._ he thinks to himself before letting his hand drop, a little embarrassed and feeling a little guilty. Even if it's only hair, Dorian specifically told him not to touch him.

Still, Bull tugs off the mage's boots and places them neatly at the foot of his bed as he had done the other night. It was rather uncomfortable to sleep with shoes on and Bull knows the mage is going to feel enough discomfort as it is. Next he digs both of his blankets out and throws them over his body, tucking them in so he could be as warm as possible from the neck down. Dorian was always cold and tonight - with both no door and no fire - Bull anticipated the man would need the extra layers.

That done, Bull then sits heavily back down in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. Folding one leg over the other Bull glances at what is left of his front door and rolls his eye to himself before closing it, exhausted.

The events of the day have finally taken their toll and, without realizing he was no longer so jumpy or bouncy, the Bull drifts into sleep.


	6. Ending Is The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please mind the upgraded rating of this story.

_The Iron Bull can smell the Inquisitor on Dorian._

_It doesn't fit with why Dorian is in his room instead of with the aforementioned man. Perhaps they had had a spat following sex, or perhaps Dorian had simply left immediately after. It doesn't much matter to Bull so he doesn't spend too much time thinking about it._

_The important thing is when his nostrils flare he picks up more than just the usual intoxicating scent that always hangs on Dorian. It's a masculine musk that makes Bull's blood boil._

_With what seems like no effort at all, Bull stands and moves over Dorian where he lay on his stomach. Some point between those movements, Bull finds himself no longer clothed with his throbbing erection straining toward the sleeping mage._

_Flinging the blanket aside, Bull's hands grab at the younger man, tugging and clawing at his ridiculous clothing and hauling him up by his ass. He pays little mind to the sounds coming from the mage as he awakens but is pleased when he balances himself on his elbows and knees._

_In moments Dorian's clothes are torn from his body and laying in pieces on the floor around the bed. At once Bull covers the smaller man with his body, draping over him so his aching dick rubs hard against that perfect ass - oh how he's wanted to do this from the moment he saw the pretty mage._

_"Bull...please..." comes from those full lips as Bull presses his face into the man's neck and inhales. It draws a growl from him when he can still smell the inquisitor all over him and his fingers tighten on Dorian's hips, digging in with his fingernails. He can't tell what the words are begging for but at this point it doesn't matter._

_"Dorian." Bull growls roughly before sucking hard on his neck, savoring the taste of his skin before biting down with his teeth. The yell it causes from the mage gives him the perfect opening to shove two fingers into his mouth._

_Hips that have been consistently rutting against Dorian finally find their mark when he thrusts against him and feels the head of his dick push into that tight hole. But it's not as tight as it could be, should be, usually is..._

_Flashes of the Inquisitor's dick in Dorian - Dorian moaning for it, wanting it - flash through Bull's head. He's probably still full of his cum. Bull growls hard and slams his hips harder without warning. Dorian's mouth is full of his fingers so his answering scream is muffled in a way that just makes him harder as he really starts to fuck into him with purpose._

_Must take. Have. Own. Mine._

_Bull can feel his knot swelling as it slams against Dorian's tight asshole, stretched so wide and taut around him. Oh yes, he can take it, he will take it, how he loves it. Then he will be so full of Bull's dick he won't be able to move for hours. So full of Bull's cum he will feel it inside, thick and heavy as it owns him. Bull will own him and Dorian will love it. He-_

The Iron Bull did not fall out of his chair to land sprawled out on the floor - but it was a very near thing.

Heart pounding wildly in his chest, Bull was on his feet and rapidly he took stock of the situation in front of him. He was in his own room in Skyhold, with the Inquisition. The beginnings of dawn were lightening the darkness off the room leaving him to guess it was near morning time. He was safe in the room, in spite of the fact he no longer has a front door. There appeared to be no signs of danger or any change throughout the night. But he was _painfully_ hard and there was a sleeping Tevinter mage curled up in his bed.

Slowly his heart beat slowed as he realized none of it was real - it had just been a dream.

"Shit..." he whispered to himself. His own body still felt tense, taut and close to breaking but thankfully Dorian was still softly snoring, curled in on himself with his back to Bull, blankets mostly obscuring his form.

It was...painful to walk, but Bull forced himself from the room, pausing only to grab his great axe, before slipping quietly out of the open doorway, careful in his steps so as not to wake the other man. The cool breeze of the early morning air did wonders for helping to cool his arousal and calm his mind.

Though it was a bit early, Bull strode purposefully toward the training dummies near the tavern. This early even Cassandra wasn't out yet which suited Bull perfectly. He really just needed some time alone - while hitting things.

Strenuous activity had always helped calm him, even when he had still followed the Qun. Any time he felt himself lost or unsure he could always train - it helped body, mind and spirit, two of which were in dire need of help currently.

Of course Bull had sex dreams before - he had even had sex dreams about Dorian and even about the Inquisitor before. But they weren't usually so... _Animalistic_ his mind supplied helpfully causing him to grunt in frustration. It was true though. Normally even in his dreams he cared for his partner's desires and he loved hearing and doing what they wanted, but in that one he had simply taken. He had simply gone from looking and wanting to fucking in seconds.

 _Of course it's a dream, I can't control that..._ Bull thought to himself as he wailed forcefully on the dummy, knocking it around and cutting off pieces of wood and wool - causing them to fly off haphazardly. _Maybe it has something to do with it being a mage. Never had a sex dream about a mage before Dorian - demons like to hang around them, maybe one got distracted..._

The thought was not remotely comforting and Bull sighed to himself, knowing that it wasn't the problem. It couldn't be coincidence. It had to have something to do with him being Tal-Vashoth. His mind had needed that discipline - look what it could reduce him to, in one night he was a complete animal without it.

"Not an animal." Bull gritted his teeth, panting with exertion as he with his final violent swing he somehow managed to succeed in lobbing off the dummy's head.

"Remind me nevah to piss you off then!"

Bull's head jerked so hard he had to stop himself mid-swing or he'd have swung it at Sera as she approached him from the left.

"Yeah well...that might not be a good idea now" he replied blowing out a breath and realizing, for the first time, that the sun was now almost fully up - the area around him had turned to midmorning without him noticing.

"Now? You mean I coulda pissed you before and it woulda been fine?" Sera questioned with her arms folded in front of her and a curl to her lips. Bull knows she's teasing him but she doesn't know how right her words are. If he can't regain control of himself...

"Don't worry about it." Bull replies instead with a sigh and shake of his head. Picking up his axe again he starts to turn his attention to the dummy before he feels her small hand on his shoulder.

Looking at her questioningly, Bull is surprised to find a semblance of genuine concern in her eyes. "You're you, Bull. You've always been you - you were only Qunari sorta, jus' like I'm an elfy not-really, an' Varric's a dwarf somewhat, an' Dorian's Tevinter not-cruel, yeah?"

In spite of himself, Bull can't help but smile at her words, "So you're saying we're _all_ misfits?"

"Hah! Maybe _you_ are, all tryin' to fit in where you don't! I'm just fine," Sera smirks at him before patting him twice more and then moving away to literally skip off toward the tavern, throwing behind her, "You still gotta eat though, yeah? Get the good rock-bread 'fore it turns to just rock-rock for throwin'!"

Sighing, Bull let his axe fall down to rest against his leg. Odd though she was, Sera did have a point - it was just difficult when he himself felt so different after he was lost to the Qun. It was easy enough for her to say he had only been "Qunari sorta" considering he had been trained to keep everything at arm’s length and always to play whatever part the situation called for - _what is left when you realize you have played a part your whole life?_

At the very least Sera had been right about getting breakfast. Bull wiped the sweat from his face with an arm before he followed her to the tavern. Also, apparently she was right that the food actually resembled _food_ if you got to it early enough. _Either that or my teeth have gotten sharper_ _..._ Bull smiles a little to himself as he carries another two biscuits with him back into his room.

To his complete surprise, he returns to find Dorian just stirring, sitting up right with his feet around the side of the bed on the floor and rubbing his eyes. "Morning." He addresses him gently, glad that he had brought extra food back with him. He hadn't _expected_ Dorian to still be here but was glad he was.

"Ah, no thank you..." Dorian replied with a slight wave of his hand when offered the biscuit. Bull frowns slightly but does not comment on the way Dorian turned his face resolutely from him. _Odd, he's ashamed, but of what? Of me? Of still being here?_

"You might want it though, it is actually edible." Bull replied instead, leaving the biscuit on the side table near the now empty bottle where the hangover mixture he had created for him was. "Plus it might help more with that 'morning after' feeling."

This caused Dorian to exhale softly in something resembling a laugh. He seemed tense and nervous but Bull decided not to push him on it. Instead he set his great axe back down near the wall by his bed and retook his position in the chair. He could feel Dorian's eyes on him but did not comment on it, just took his own remaining biscuit and chewed it thoughtfully as he leaned back and closed his eye. He wanted to make Dorian think he was - no, he wants to _be_ \- as relaxed and non-threatening as possible, that way if the mage wanted to talk he can but he also didn't feel forced to.

For several moments the only sound in the room was Bull chewing and the shifting of fabric near the bed that must signify Dorian pulling on his boots and righting his clothes. For a period of time Bull was almost certain that Dorian had left before a sigh finally broke the silence.

"I'm sorry about your door, Bull."

Cracking a small smile, Bull opened his eye, "That old thing? Don't worry about it. Was creaking so much anyway, it annoyed the shit out of me."

Dorian rolled his eyes in reply and Bull took the moment to see that he did indeed have his boots on and his clothes seemed to be better arranged on him - as though he hadn't just slept in them. Also, he seemed to have somehow smoothed his moustache out and his hair was looking less wild than before. These had to be intentional acts but again Bull didn’t comment on them.

When Dorian still didn't speak but also didn't leave, Bull sighed and sat up a bit straighter. Dorian's fidgeting was making him feel uneasy - trust the mage not to play along and to force Bull to start talking. Well that was fine, as long as he wasn't about to bolt away on him anyway.

"Look, Dorian, I didn't want to press you on this because it's pretty clear you've been going through something on your own. But-"

"What? Oh did my less than stellar performance last night in breaking down your doorway give you some kind of sign?" Dorian snapped in reply, surprising Bull.

"Yeah, just a bit." Bull settled for replying, hesitating before going on, "Dorian, I'm just..." Sighing, he tried again, "I know it isn't really my place, but I have to wonder if you're, you know, okay?"

For some reason this caused the mage's eyes to widen. He stared at Bull as though he hadn't seen him before. "If _I'm_ okay?" he repeated dumbly.

Unsure for a moment, Bull continued, "Yes, if you're okay. I know shit can be rough, and I don't know what is going on with you and the Inquisitor, but I can only imagine that-"

"Wait, wait, you want to talk about _that?! "_ Dorian's eyebrows lifted high as he interrupted, "After everything that has happened and you want to discuss..." Dorian's hands spasmed where he was gripping his own thighs before he stood, shaking his head, "No, Bull. What is happening in my _private_ affairs is...is, private. I'm sorry, I really am, that I have invaded upon you twice, but it will _not_ happen again, I swear it."

"What?" Bull asked in surprise, having no idea how they had gotten here, "I was not complaining, Dorian! I was just-"

"Stop, don't," Dorian interrupted him again with a shake of his head, "It's difficult enough for me to apologize so just...just let me say this, okay?"

Even though _he_ hadn't actually interrupted Dorian prior and Dorian has nothing to apologize _for ,_ still Bull nodded his head and shut his mouth.

"Right. Thank you." Dorian exhaled heavily and retook his seat on the edge of the bed, but he sat delicately as he closed his eyes and began again, "I am well aware that I am a very self involved man. I do so love to blame my upbringing for it, but I probably would have been like this regardless. I am important to me, I like talking about me and I like hearing about me."

Dorian's eyes opened and he looked at Bull seriously, "I am very self involved, but even I can't turn the events of the last two days and make them all about me. As much as I like to pretend otherwise, some things can, occasionally, be more important than me." Dorian's lips twisted into a smirk and Bull let out a low laugh, only because he can tell that is what Dorian wanted him to do. Privately he doesn't find it all that funny, especially why Dorian felt the need to say all of this. _Who is he trying to convince that he is so self involved, me or himself?_

"The events that occurred on the Storm Coast, Bull..." he watched as Dorian bit his lip and sighed before going on, "I can't imagine how difficult that was for you. And you can't imagine how...how conflicted I feel, for interrupting. It wasn't my place, it wasn't, I just couldn't help but feel…that you...it wasn't what you wanted, was it?" Now his eyes are almost pleading with Bull, desperate, "You...you didn't really want to...I mean, the Chargers?"

Slowly, Bull rose to his feet and moved forward, toward Dorian, but he stopped abruptly when Dorian almost seemed to flinch at the movement. _He's worried that I hate him for it ._ Bull realizes slowly, _He thinks I've been pitying him and being nice because of it, but that I regret him and hate him for interrupting._

"No, Dorian," Bull replied almost hoarsely, hesitating another moment before sitting next to him on the bed, turning to face him. His hands ached to touch him in some way, to comfort him, but he keeps them clasped tightly in his lap, "I have never needed anyone in my life the way that I needed you there that day."

This drew Dorian's eyes to meet him in surprise and Bull smiled softly as he confessed, "I would have listened to the Inquisitor...and I would have been wrong. You worry that I regret you being there...I only regret that I didn't make the decision myself. I can never repay you, but to say...thank you."

As much as he hated being Tal-Vashoth, as much as he wasn't sure he could handle the new him...he was grateful to even have the opportunity. To still have his men. He hadn't been strong enough to make the decision on his own but he knew he would have regretted it every day of his life if he had sacrificed them.

Hesitantly, Bull lifted a hand and was about to put it on Dorian's shoulder when he was interrupted by a third voice.

"Well isn't this just so incredibly cozy?"

\-----

Dorian had been so completely sure that he had everything figured out that when the Bull answered him - actually _thanked_ him - he was left speechless. A rarity to be sure.

But what exactly _could_ he say in reply? That it had been no big deal? It absolutely was. That it had been no problem? As though it was so casual to make life and death decisions. Well maybe it was for the Inquisitor but not Dorian. He had been so sure that Bull would blame him for being Tal-Vashoth - worse, that he would think it was some sort of Tevinter ploy...that he hadn't even considered what to say if the conversation had gone the other way.

His mind was still scrambling when the smooth voice interrupted them and he had to put effort in to not reacting. His first instinct was to look away - he was so ghastly unprepared to have an audience after all, the touch up he'd managed while Bull relaxed notwithstanding, he was still a mess and he knew it. This was followed quickly by a reckless kind of indifference. After all, Trevelyan had already rejected him, it no longer matter what he thought. Which was immediately followed with a deep-seated desire to be better than before. Whether that was to show him what he would be missing or to try and get him back, Dorian wasn't sure.

While Dorian was wrapped in his mental battle, Bull moved away with a casual laugh, "Well as cozy as can be, considering the door, but not as cozy with him as I'd like to be."

That interrupted his own mental tirade and Dorian stared at Bull. _Did he...did he just flirt with me?_ But Trevelyan answered first, "So sorry to interrupt then." Is Dorian imaging it or is his tone clipped? Those green eyes flickered over him before returning to Bull, "But we just got word from the Storm Coast - it looks like the Red Templars have taken up residence again, and you know the area the best, so you're coming with me."

It was not a question and also not directed at him, so Dorian took the opportunity to grab the biscuit from the bedside table and take a small bite just to have something to do. Surprisingly, he can actually chew it so he does so while glancing between the two.

"Ugh, Red Templars," Bull replied and seemed to glance at Dorian but it was so fast Dorian half believed he imagined it, "I always love busting their heads, boss, but the boys and I were going to return to Haven, remember? We still haven't yet and plus I-"

"You delayed that mission once, you're saying you can't do it again?" Trevelyan interrupted with more than a touch of annoyance.

Bull sighed in reply, "Yes, I know, but that was-"

"An emergency, I get it," Trevelyan answered him and Dorian eyed the man as he took another small bite of the biscuit; he actually sounded sympathetic, "And the others took care of the situation while we were busy, but this time it's not an emergency, your men can handle it without you, can't they?"

There was a slight edge to the last bit that Bull clearly picked up on as well.

"Of course they can," he answered quickly, "They are more than capable, I just..." Bull hesitated and shook his head, "Never mind, fine, boss. If that's what you want."

It was an effort not to interrupt again, so Dorian stuffed a larger amount of the biscuit in his mouth to keep from saying anything. The Chargers don't _need_ Bull to go with them but he _wants_ to go with them, they probably make him feel at home. Maybe he needs that, maybe he needs to remind himself of what he gained when he lost the Qun.

Still it was not Dorian's place and, in spite of the thank you he received, he was resolutely _not_ going to interrupt or interject himself this time...which made it a bit frustrating when Trevelyan did it for him.

"Dorian can go with them."

In a rush to speak, Dorian instead blew out a mouthful of crumbs and immediately coughed.

"Charming," Trevelyan mocked him; Dorian knew he was joking but still he glared, causing the Inquisitor's smile to widen, "Well that settles it then, yes? Dorian certainly gets along with them so he can help _and_ you don't have to worry and will be free to come with me? Win-win."

 _Plus it means that neither of them will have to deal with your whiney ass always hanging around..._ Dorian finally managed to clear his throat and speak before Bull does, "It's fine with me." Which, as much as he loves Krem, it's not really but neither of them want to - or should have to - deal with his issues any more than they already have.

Resolutely not looking at Bull, Dorian got to his feet with as much of a flourish as he could manage, messy as he was and now with crumbs tumbling off him, "I will leave you to your plans then. I will see you when you return."

Giving as elegant a bow as he could manage, Dorian exited and only glanced back after he had cleared the door and made it outside.

Catching Bull's eye briefly, he could not read his expression - he rarely could - and instead of trying, gave him a little wave of his fingers. Trevelyan did not look back and, as Dorian didn't really expect him to, he did not spend too much time thinking about it. Instead his thoughts turned to the clothes he would bring with him and things he would have to pack if he was to be traveling back to Haven.

\-----

As much as Dorian got along with Krem, it didn't take him long to realize that he didn't really know the rest of the Chargers that well. Of course he knew their names and the general breakdown of who they each were, but he had never had occasion to actually interact with the rest of them before.

So it wasn't really that much of a surprise when, on the second day of traveling, one of them approached him with a distrustful look in her eye.

"You. You're awfully pretty, aren't you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, were you talking to me?" Dorian asked her, more as a delaying tactic than anything else as he cast his eyes about for Krem.

For the most part he had hung near the back of the party while riding, aware that he was an outsider. The occasional friendly glance from Krem was reassuring though and he was hoping to receive such. However it seemed he was shit out of luck and Krem, the elf mage-non mage and the one-who-never-talked had apparently disappeared.

"I'm looking right at you aren't I, Shem?" the female elf stared at him until Dorian met her gaze and her lip curled, "What, you too far above us? Can't even meet my eyes?"

"Well you are a bit short, but surely that is no cause to fight?" Dorian replied, unsure of exactly what he had done to piss her off. Maybe it was just another person with an issue with him being from Tevinter - she was an elf after all, she would have good cause.

She took another rather aggressive step towards him and Dorian had to fight not to back down, "Look, Skinner, I didn't mean anything by it, I just-"

"You know my name?" she interrupted, freezing where she was and staring at him.

Coming seemingly from nowhere, Stitches appears next to her and threw an arm over her shoulder. "O'course he does." The man nodded to Dorian, clearly catching the look of thanks in Dorian's eyes, "Come now, Skin, we've been through this, it's not nice to scare the new guy."

"Wish you'da told her that when I first joined!" came the voice of Rocky, the dwarf, who was tending to the fire nearby. Dorian could already tell the dwarf had a knack for fire that few people, other than mages, had. He wasn't sure whether this made him want to get to know him better or to stay far, far away. "She damn near took off my head and I'm not even a human."

"I didn't know you," Skinner replied stiffly, calmed by Stitches' arm around her but still glaring at Dorian, "Just as I don't know him."

"Ah, well, I can fix that!" Dorian enthuses, wiping his hands on his robes before (bravely) stepping forward and bowing before her, "I am Dorian Pavus of House Pavus of Tevinter, a land I love though it remains deeply flawed. I assure you I am no threat to you and yours, though I am exceedingly dangerous with a staff and a very talented and accomplished mage," almost as an afterthought he added, "And I am indeed _very_ pretty."

That got a snorted laugh out of Stitches and Rocky though Skinner didn't seem amused.

"That is the problem," she said.

"My...being pretty is a problem?" Dorian questioned.

His eyes flickered to Stitches who just shrugged. He seems convinced that Skinner wasn't going to physically hurt him as he released her and moves toward Rocky at the fire. Dorian wasn't quite so sure.

"Yes," Skinner replied, narrowing her eyes at him.

When it seemed she wasn't going to explain further, Dorian fell back on his usual bravado, "Well, I understand how that may be an issue. I can't tell you the number of times my perfection has ruined friendships, tore families and even nations apart. It is the curse I must endure."

Thankfully, he saw her thin lips curling and this time it wasn't a sneer. It was obvious she was trying not to laugh and Dorian took it as a win. Especially when, to his relief, Krem rejoined them, arms full of fire wood, laughing himself, "Yes, and you're so modest too."

Dorian relaxed as Dalish followed after, also carrying wood under one arm, and draged Skinner away from him and back to the fire.

"It is a burden, to be sure. But I do handle it so splendidly," Dorian said; a grunting sound behind him made him jump and he moved out of the way in time for Grim to push past him, also headed to the fire.

The conversation shifted and moved on and Stitches, Krem and Rocky focused on the fire and getting food going as the others relaxed. Dorian found himself hanging back near the horses, running a hand down the mane of the one he had been riding. Normally grooming horses was nowhere near the top of his list of things he would enjoy doing, but...he had stupidly not brought any reading material and he was still a bit thrown by the previous conversation.

This wasn't the first time a person had been irritated at him for being pretty.

Though it was _occasionally_ from straight men who were feeling not-so-straight upon seeing him...it was more often not in reaction to how he actually _looked_ , and Dorian knew it. Looks had very little to do with him being 'pretty'. The 'pretty' was really more in the makeup, jewelry and clothing that he wore.

Sometimes it did seem to be more trouble than it was worth - especially with the constant mocking he received from so many. Yet at the same time, it was so much easier to paint a large target so that he controlled what they mocked. If they were so busy mocking him for being _pretty_ they were likely to overlook his other inadequacies.

Plus, he _liked_ being pretty. He _liked_ looking in the mirror and being able to see the time and effort he put into himself pay off - even if others were too stubborn to see it.

"Food's ready," the gruff voice of Krem interrupted his thoughts and Dorian turned from the horse to face him, "Stop sulking and put some meat on your bones," Krem instructed him, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him back to the camp.

"Oh you're one to talk," Dorian laughed lightly, allowing himself to be dragged back to the circle. Unfortunately the only open seat next to Krem is also next to Skinner. Instead Dorian settled himself between Dalish and Stitches, even though he had to nudge the human aside a little.

Still, dinner continued relatively uneventfully; the food was actually very good. The group broke out a cask of alcohol, which Dorian passed on in spite of the disapproving looks this earned him. The last thing he needed was to get drunk and end up whining to Krem or Stitches, what with there being no Bull around to bother.

However, just watching the rest of them as they drank was extremely amusing on its own. Rocky and Dalish got into an argument and, from the reactions of the group, it was not the first time they had argued about the topic. It seemed to be based on the fact that Rocky wanted her to admit she used more than just 'elven tricks' and, if she did, he would admit she was better with explosions than he is.

Relaxing and enjoying the ambient noise of the argument, Dorian idly toyed with the fire, even prodding it back to life a few times when he could feel the flames dying. The groups' conversations had broken down to side talking, and Dorian felt a kind of longing and loneliness as he listened to them.

He wondered, not for the first time, how they must miss Bull and wish he was here in place of Dorian. He wondered who he would be talking to now; what opinion he might have on who was better with explosives, Rocky or Dalish. He wondered if Bull was happy where he was now, if he was with the Inquisitor...if the two of them had anything more going on than Dorian is aware of.

Sighing, Dorian released the fire and rubbed his eyes. His mood was starting to turn morose which meant it was definitely time for bed. Opening his eyes, he found the stare of everyone on him. He jerked to attention, surprised. Slowly, he realized when he released the fire it died down completely, leaving them in almost complete darkness.

"Ah, oh, sorry about that..." he muttered and, with a twitch of his fingers, the fire roared back causing the shadows to dance around their faces.

They stared for a moment more before Dalish pointed a finger at him, turning to Rocky, "See? That is a mage, there! That power! My _bow_ and I can't do _that_!"

While others were distracted by laughter, Dorian felt a skinny elbow sharply poke him. Frowning and rubbing his side, he turned to meet Skinner's eyes with surprise. Instinctively he scooted to the side but the elf didn't follow, just stared at him.

"I can see why he likes you but I still think you're too pretty - just how he likes them. Dangerous. Remember, I'm watching you."

_He likes me? He who, Krem? Krem's the only one here who could be described as liking me...But...likes them pretty? That can't be Krem, can it?_

Before Dorian could verbalize his questions, Skinner slinked away and back to the group, leaving a completely bewildered Dorian behind.

\-----

Inquisitor Trevelyan does not get jealous.

There had hardly been a person in his life whom he had wanted to have sex with that had rejected him. That is not to say it had _never_ happened. It had but only twice, and both times he had barely known the person, therefore it had been easy to move on from.

It was different with Bull - it was frustrating. Iron Bull flirted with _everyone_ and _constantly_ , but never him. Even back when Bull had first joined the Inquisition, Trevelyan had known immediately that he would like to have sex with him. Though Bull had not outright rejected him, he had responded to every attempt to flirt with an infuriating indifference.

And the worst part was how easily and freely he flirted with everyone else. Even with Cassandra! Not to mention Dorian - the first thing out of Bull's mouth upon meeting him had been laced with sexuality along with the distrust. It wasn't that he blamed Bull for it, he himself had been immediately attracted to Dorian as well, but why didn't Bull treat _him_ that way too? Why was _he_ the only one that Bull didn't flirt with? It didn't make sense.

It was starting to get in the way, too.

Trevelyan had gone to Bull that morning, several days ago now, to recruit him to go to the Storm Coast, yes, but he had intended to bring Dorian as well. Dorian knew the Storm Coast almost as well; he had been a regular in Trevelyan's party. Yet that odd feeling of _something_ had taken over when he saw Dorian and Bull sitting so close to each other on the bed.

It wasn't fair and he knew it, but he was starting to feel a kind of resentment towards the mage. While intellectually he was aware that Dorian couldn't control his feelings, he was still frustrated that he had to _ruin_ it. Now Trevelyan wasn't having sex with him anymore. Now Trevelyan wasn't having sex with _anyone_ anymore. And what does Dorian do? Immediately jump into Bull's bed - almost as though on purpose.

 _Paranoia; no one, not even Dorian, knows how much I want Bull ._ Trevelyan told himself as he hiked through the wooded area, on the way towards the caves the Templars had camped out in. Yet it still didn't stop him from having an intense desire to separate the two of them. It was also causing any fond feelings of affection he has for Dorian to warp into dislike and distrust.

When they finally reached the entrance to the cave, Trevelyan had had just about enough of his own thoughts. Marching over to Iron Bull, he tapped him on the shoulder.

"A word?" he requests and jerks his head towards the beach, "You two stay here, we won't be long," he instructed Solas and Varric who gave him a questioning look but didn't argue.

"What's on your mind, boss?" Iron Bull asks, and he was still so frustratingly calm it made Trevelyan feel even more tense.

"It's about Dorian," Trevelyan started but couldn't decide if he was pleased or not that bringing that up at least caused Bull to tense, "Let's have it out now, shall we? I know that he and I aren't sleeping together anymore, but that's-"

"You're what?" Bull interrupts him and, as much as Trevelyan hated being interrupted, he let it go on seeing the shock on Bull's face. It was rare for him to show his emotions so openly.

"Yes," Trevelyan answered, surprised that Bull did not know, "Did he fail to mention that in the short amount of time it took the two of you to fuck the other day?" And okay, maybe there is a small bit of bitterness there but Trevelyan couldn't help it - he honestly would if he could.

"I-no, look, boss, we're not...we did not have sex," Bull answered to Trevelyan's surprise. He then continued, "But no shitting, you guys are done? What happened?"

Trevelyan opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again. Bull seemed eager to hear about this. _Eager for Dorian, probably ..._ Trevelyan thought to himself and weighed his options before answering carefully. "Dorian is...a bit old fashioned when it comes to sex. I wanted to try something new and he agreed...until I found out after that he hated every moment of it and likened it to rape..." even saying the words out loud got to him. it was not an act when he turned away and cleared his throat to hide his emotions.

"I need open and honest sexual partners...ones I don't need to be afraid that I'm going to break...not ones that lie to me about what they can handle..." he dared a glance to Bull, "I trust the same is true for you?"

It was usually difficult to read Bull, but Trevelyan could at least see the conflict in his face as he answered slowly, "I...well...yeah. Talking first, agreeing, honesty...it's...important. I didn't think...Dorian was like that."

Nothing he had said was a lie, so Trevelyan didn't feel bad about his small smile in return as he turned toward Bull and puts a hand on his chest, pressing lightly with his fingers. "I agree. And Bull?" Trevelyan waited until the eye was fixed on him before he smiled fully at the Bull, rubbing a circular pattern near his nipple. "In case you were wondering? You can't break _me_."


End file.
